PQ  4620 
.T  76 


\ 


LIFE 


'PQ 


/  / 


op  *£  c* 

T7C 


t?T> 

VITTORIA  COLONNA. 


BY 

T.  ADOLPHUS  TROLLOPE. 


NEW  YORK: 

AMERICAN  BOOK  EXCHANGE, 

55  Beekman  Street. 

1879. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


https://archive.org/details/lifeofvittoriacoOOtrol 


5>3z?  b 


EDITOR’S  PREFACE. 


\ 


- ♦ - 

A  life  of  Yittoria  Colonna,  the  most 
beautiful  and  most  gifted  woman  of  Italy, 
will  certainly  not  be  out  of  place  among 
the  biographies  of  our  Household  Library. 

Yittoria  Colonna  belonged  to  one  of  the 
great  feudal  families  of  Italy,  and  her  life 
affords  an  interesting  picture  of  the  soci¬ 
ety  of  her  times.  She  married  one  of  the 
greatest  captains  of  the  age,  and  her  life 
incidentally  reveals  to  us  the  source  of  all 
the  woes  of  Italy. 


4  Editor's  Pfreace. 

She  was  the  companion  of  popes  and 
princes,  the  friend  of  mighty  men  of  genius 
like  Michael  Angelo,  and  her  life  recalls 
the  most  splendid  period  of  Italian  art. 

She  was  herself  a  famous  poetess,  and 
the  highest  peninsular  courts  felt  them¬ 
selves  honored  hy  her  presence. 

“  Vittoria  Colonna,”  says  her  biogra¬ 
pher,  “  has  survived  in  men’s  memory  as 
a  poetess.  But  she  is  far  more  interesting 
to  the  historical  student,  who  would  ob¬ 
tain  a  full  understanding  of  that  wonder¬ 
ful  sixteenth  century,  as  a  Protestant. 
Her  highly  gifted  and  richly  cultivated 
intelligence,  her  great  social  position,  and, 
above  all,  her  close  intimacy  with  the  emi¬ 
nent  men  who  strove  to  set  on  foot  an 
Italian  reformation  which  should  not  be 


Editor's  Preface.  5 

incompatible  with  the  Papacy,  make  the 
illustration  of  her  religious  opinions  a  mat¬ 
ter  of  no  slight  historical  interest.” 

The  author  of  this  biography  is  Mr.  T. 
Adolphus  Trollope,  brother  of  the  novel¬ 
ist,  and  son  of  the  woman  wrho  made  her¬ 
self  famous  by  her  abuse  of  the  Americans. 
It  forms  a  part  of  his  Decade  of  Italian 
Women,  in  regard  to  which  the  London 
Athenaeum  says :  “  This  book  breathes  of 
the  very  air  of  Italian  life.  .  .  .  The  fas¬ 
cination  is  the  greater  that  the  author 
seems  unconscious  of  the  subtle  perfume 
in  which  his  page  is  steeped.  The  book 
opens  to  the  English  reader  curious  pic¬ 
tures  of  the  life  and  manners  of  Italy  in 
the  brilliant  and  troublous  times  of  the 
Middle  Ages.” 

1* 


6  Editor's  Preface . 

A  point  of  especial  interest  in  this  Life 
of  Yittoria  Colonna,  is,  that  it  contains 
translations  of  her  finest  poems. 

We  began  our  series  with  the  life  of 
the  most  remarkable  woman  of  France, 
and,  after  having  wandered  long  among 
the  imperial  lords  of  creation,  we  are  hap¬ 
py  to  add  a  very  pleasant  life  of  the  most 
remarkable  woman  of  Italy. 

O.  W.  Wight. 


July,  1859. 


VITTORIA  COLOMA. 

(1490—1547.) 


CHAPTER  I. 

Changes  in  the  Condition  of  Italy. — Dark  Days. — Circum¬ 
stances  which  led  to  the  Invasion  of  the  French. — State 
of  things  in  Naples. — Fall  of  the  Arragonese  Dynasty. — 
Birth  of  Vittoria. — The  Colonna. — Marino. — Vittoria ’s 
Betrothal. — The  Duchess  di  Francavilla. — Literary  Cul¬ 
ture  at  Naples. — Education  of  Yittoriain  Ischia 

The  signs  of  change,  which  were  per¬ 
plexing  monarchs  at  the  period  of  Vit¬ 
toria  Colonna’s  entry  on  the  scene,  be¬ 
longed  simply  to  the  material  order  of 
things  5  and  such  broad  outline  of  them, 
as  is  necessary  to  give  some  idea  of  the 
general  position  of  Italy  at  that  day, 
may  be  drawn  in  few  words. 

Certain  more  important  symptoms  of 
changes  in  the  world  of  thought  and 


8 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


speculation,  did  not  rise  to  the  surface 
of  society  till  a  few  years  later,  and 
these  will  have  to  he  spoken  of  in  a 
subsequent  page. 

When  Galeazzo  Maria  Sforza,  Duke 
of  Milan,  was  murdered  in  1476,  his  son, 
Gian  Galeazzo,  a  minor,  succeeded  to 
the  dukedom.  But  his  uncle  Ludovico, 
known  in  history  as  “Ludovico  il 
Moro,”  under  pretence  of  protecting  his 
nephew,  usurped  the  whole  power  and 
property  of  the  crown,  which  he  con¬ 
tinued  wrongfully  to  keep  in  his  own 
hands  even  after  the  majority  of  his 
nephew.  The  latter,  however,  having 
married  a  grand-daughter  of  Ferdinand 
of  Arragon,  King  of  Naples,  her  father, 
Alphonso,  heir  apparent  of  that  crown, 
became  exceedingly  discontented  at  the 
state  of  tutelage  in  which  his  son-in-law 
was  thus  held.  And  his  remonstrances 
and  threats  became  so  urgent,  that 
“  Black  Ludovick  ”  perceived  that  he 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


9 


should  be  unable  to  retain  his  usurped 
position,  unless  he  could  find  means  of 
disabling  Ferdinand  and  his  son  Al- 
phonso  from  exerting  their  strength 
against  him.  With  this  view  he  per¬ 
suaded  Charles  VIII.  of  France  to  un¬ 
dertake  with  his  aid  the  conquest  of  the 
kingdom  of  Naples,  to  which  the  French 
monarch  asserted  a  claim,  derived  from 
the  house  of  Anjou,  which  had  reigned 
in  Naples,  till  they  were  ousted  by  the 
house  of  Arragon.  This  invitation, which 
the  Italian  historians  consider  the  first 
fountain  head  of  all  their  calamities, 
was  given  in  1492.  On  the  23d  of  Au¬ 
gust,  1494,  Charles  left  France  on  his 
march  to  Italy,  and  arrived  in  Rome  on 
the  31st  of  December  of  that  year. 

On  the  previous  25th  of  January, 
Ferdinand,  the  old  King  of  Naples, 
died,  and  his  son,  Alphonso,  succeeded 
him.  But  the  new  monarch,  who  dur¬ 
ing  the  latter  years  of  his  father’s  life 


10 


Vittoria  Oolonna. 


had  wielded  the  whole  power  of  the 
kingdom,  was  so  much  hated  by  his 
subjects,  that  on  the  news  of  the  French 
King’s  approach  they  rose  in  rebellion, 
and  declared  in  favor  of  the  invader. 
Alphonso  made  no  attempt  to  face  the 
storm,  but  forthwith  abdicated  in  favor 
of  his  son  Ferdinand,  fled  to  Sicily, 
and  u  set  about  serving  God,”  as  the 
chroniclers  phrase  it,  in  a  monastery, 
where  he  died  a  few  months  later,  on 
the  19th  of  November,  1495. 

S/ 

Ferdinand  II.,  his  son,  was  not  dis¬ 
liked  by  the  nation  ;  and  Guicciardini 
gives  it  as  his  opinion,  that  if  the  ab¬ 
dication  of  his  father  in  his  favor  had 
been  executed  earlier,  it  might  have 
had  the  effect  of  saving  the  kingdom 
from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
French  monarch.  But  it  was  now  too 
late.  A  large  portion  of  it  had  already 
declared  itself  in  favor  of  the  invaders. 
Ferdinand  found  the  contest  hopeless 


Yittoria  C olonna. 


11 


and  early  in  1495  retired  to  Ischia. 
Charles  entered  Naples  the  21st  of 
February,  1495,  and  the  whole  kingdom 
hastened  to  accept  him  as  its  sovereign. 

Meantime,  however,  Ludovico,  Duke 
of  Milan,  whose  oppressed  nephew  had 
died  on  the  22d  of  October,  1494,  be¬ 
gan  to  be  alarmed  at  the  too  complete 
success  of  his  own  policy,  and  entered 
into  a  league  with  the  Venetians,  the 
King  of  the  Romans,  and  Ferdinand  of 
Castile,  against  Charles,  who  seems  to 
have  immediately  become  as  much 
panic  stricken  at  the  news  of  it  as  Al- 
phonso  had  been  at  his  approach.  The 
French,  moreover,  both  the  monarch 
and  his  followers,  had  lost  no  time  in 
making  themselves  so  odious  to  the 
Neapolitans,  that  the  nation  had  already 
repented  of  having  abandoned  Ferdi¬ 
nand  so  readily,  and  were  anxious  to  get 
rid  of  the  French  and  receive  him  back 
again.  Towards  the  end  of  May,  1495, 


12 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


Charles  hastily  left  Naples  on  his  return 
to  France,  leaving  Gilbert  de  Mont- 
pensier  as  Viceroy  ;  and  on  the  7th  of 
July,  Ferdinand  returned  to  Naples  and 
was  gladly  welcomed  by  the  people. 

And  now,  having  thus  the  good-will 
of  his  subjects  already  disgusted  with 
their  French  rulers,  Ferdinand  might 
in  all  probability  have  succeeded  with¬ 
out  any  foreign  assistance  in  ridding  his 
country  of  the  remaining  French  troops 
left  behind  him  by  Charles,  and  in  re¬ 
establishing  the  dynasty  of  Arragon  on 
the  throne  of  Naples,  had  he  not  at  the 
time  when  things*  looked  worst  with 
him,  on  the  first  coming  of  Charles, 
committed  the  fatal  error  of  asking  as¬ 
sistance  from  Ferdinand  the  Catholic, 
of  Castile. 

Ferdinand  the  Catholic  and  the 
crafty,  did  not  wait  to  be  asked  a  sec¬ 
ond  time  ;  but  instantly  despatched  to 
his  aid,  Consalvo  Ernandez  d’Aguilar. 


'Vittoria  Colonna. 


13 


known  thereafter  in  Neapolitan  history 
as,  “  II  gran  Capitano,”  both  on  account 
of  his  rank  as  Generalissimo  of  the 
Spanish  forces,  and  of  his  high  military 
merit  and  success.  Ferdinand  of  Ar- 
ragon,  with  the  help  of  Consalvo  and 
the  troops  he  brought  with  him,  soon 
succeeded  in  driving  the  French  out  of 
his  kingdom ;  and  appeared  to  be  on 
the  eve  of  a  more  prosperous  period, 
when  a  sudden  illness  put  an  end  to  his 
life  in  October,  1496.  He  died  with¬ 
out  offspring,  and  was  succeeded  by 
his  uncle  Frederick. 

Thus,  as  the  Neapolitan  historians 
remark,  Naples  had  passed  under  the 
sway  of  no  less  than  five  monarchs  in 
the  space  of  three  years :  to  wit — 

Ferdinand  of  Arragon,  the  first,  who 
died  the  25th  of  January,  1494. 

Alphonso,  his  son,  who  abdicated  on 
the  3d  of  February,  1495. 

Charles  of  France,  crowned  at  ha- 
2 


14 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


pies  on  the  20th  of  May,  1495,  and 
driven  out  of  the  kingdom  immediately 
afterwards. 

Ferdinand  of  Arragon,  II.,  son  of 
Alphonso,  who  entered  Naples  in  tri¬ 
umph  on  the  7th  of  July,  1495,  and 
died  in  October,  1496. 

Frederick  of  Arragon,  his  uncle,  who 
succeeded  him. 

But  these  so  rapid  changes  had  not 
exhausted  the  slides  of  Fortune’s  magic 
lantern.  She  had  other  harlequinade 
transformations  in  hand,  sufficient  to 
make  even  Naples  tired  of  change  and 
desirous  of  repose.  Frederick,  the  last, 
and  perhaps  the  best,  and  best-loved 
of  the  Neapolitan  sovereigns  of  the  dy¬ 
nasty  of  Arragon,  resigned  but  to  wit¬ 
ness  the  final  discomfiture  and  downfall 
of  his  house. 

Charles  Till,  died  in  April,  1498  ; 
but  his  successor,  Louis  XII.,  was 
equally  anxious  to  possess  himself  of 


Vittoria  Colonna, 


15 


the  crown  of  Naples,  and  more  able  to 
carry  his  views  into  effect.  The  prin¬ 
cipal  obstacle  to  his  doing  so  was  the 
power  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain,  and  the 
presence  of  the  Spanish  troops  under 
Consalvo  of  Naples.  Ferdinand  the 
Catholic,  could  by  no  means  permit  the 
spoliation  of  his  kinsman  and  ally, 
Frederick,  who  loyally  relied  on  his 
protection,  for  the  profit  of  the  King 
of  France.  Louis  knew  that  it  was  im¬ 
possible  he  should  do  so.  But  the 
Most  Christian  King  thought  that  the 
Most  Catholic  King  might  very  prob¬ 
ably  find  it  consistent  with  kingly 
honor  to  take  a  different  view  of  the 
case,  if  it  were  proposed  to  him  to  go 
shares  in  the  plunder.  And  the  Most 
Christian  King’s  estimate  of  royal  na¬ 
ture  was  so  just,  that  the  Most  Catholic 
Kins:  acceded  in  the  frankest  manner 
to  his  royal  brother’s  proposal. 

Louis  accordingly  sent  an  army  to 


16 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


invade  Naples  in  the  year  1500.  The 
unfortunate  Frederick  was  beguiled  the 
while  into  thinking  that  his  full  trust 
might  he  placed  on  the  assistance  of 
Spain.  But,  when  on  the  25th  of  June, 
1501,  the  Borgia  Pope,  Alexander  VII., 
published  ahull  graciously  dividing  his 
dominions  between  the  two  eldest  sons 
of  the  Church,  he  perceived  at  once 
that  his  position  was  hopeless.  Besolv- 
ing,  however,  not  to  abandon  his  king¬ 
dom  without  making  an  attempt  to 
preserve  it,  he  determined  to  defend 
himself  in  Capua.  That  city  was  how¬ 
ever  taken  by  the  French  on  the  24th 
of  July,  1501,  and  Frederick  fled  to 
Ischia  ;  whence  he  subsequently  retired 
to  France,  and  died  at  Tours  on  the  9th 
of  November,  1504. 

Meanwhile,  the  royal  accomplices 
having  duly  shared  their  booty,  in¬ 
stantly  began  to  quarrel,  as  thieves  are 
wont  to  do,  over  the  division  of  it.  Each 


'Vittoria  Colonna. 


n 


in  fact  had  from  the  first  determined 
eventually  to  possess  himself  of  the 
whole  ;  proving,  that  if  indeed  there  be 
honor  among  thieves,  the  proverb  must 
not  be  understood  to  apply  to  such  as 
are  “  Most  Christian,”  and  “  Most  Cath¬ 
olic.” 

Naples  thus  became  the  battle-field, 
as  well  as  the  prize  of  the  contending 
parties ;  and  was  torn  to  pieces  in  the 
struggle  wThile  waiting  to  see  which  in¬ 
vader  was  to  be  her  master.  At  length 
the  Spaniard  proved  the  stronger,  as  he 
was  also  the  more  iniquitous  of  the 
two  ;  and  on  the  1st  of  January,  1504, 
the  French  finally  quitted  the  kingdom 
of  Naples,  leaving  it  in  the  entire  and 
peaceful  possession  of  Ferdinand  of 
Spain.  Under  him,  and  his  successors  on 
the  Spanish  throne,  the  unhappy  prov¬ 
ince  was  governed  by  a  series  of  vice¬ 
roys,  of  whom,  says  Colletta  1  “one  here 

*  Storia  di  Nap.  lib.  i.  cap.  1. 

.  2* 


18 


Vittorio.  C olonna. 


and  there  was  good,  many  bad  enough, 
and  several  execrable,”  for  a  period  of 
230  years,  with  results  still  visible. 

Such  was  the  scene  on  which  our 
heroine  had  to  enter  in  the  year  1490. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Fabrizio, 
brother  of  that  protonotary  Colonna, 
whose  miserable  death  at  the  hands  of 
the  hereditary  enemies  of  his  family, 
the  Orsini,  allied  with  the  Riarii,  then 
in  power  for  the  nonce  during  the  pope¬ 
dom  of  Sixtus  IV.,  has  been  related 
in  the  life  of  Caterina  Sforza.  Her 
mother  was  Agnes  of  Montefeltre  ;  and 
all  the  biographers  and  historians  tell 
us,  that  she  was  the  youngest  of  six 
children  born  to  her  parents.  The 
statement  is  a  curious  instance  of  the 
extreme  and  very  easily  detected  inac¬ 
curacy,  which  may  often  be  found 
handed  on  unchallenged  from  one  gen¬ 
eration  to  another  of  Italian  writers  of 
biography  and  history. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


19 


The  Cavaliere  Pietro  Visconti,  the 
latest  Italian,  and  by  far  the  most  com¬ 
plete  of  Vittoria’s  biographers,  who 
edited  a  handsome  edition  of  her  works 

* 

not  published,  but  printed  in  1840  at 
the  expense  of  the  prince-banker,  Tor- 
lonia,  on  the  occasion  of  his  marriage 
with  the  Princess  Donna  Teresa  Co- 
lonna,  writes  thus  at  page  55  of  the  life 
prefixed  to  this  votive  volume  : — “The 
child  (Vittoria)  increased  and  complet¬ 
ed  the  number  of  children  whom  Agnes 
of  Montefeltre,  daughter  of  Frederick, 
Duke  of  Urbino,  had  presented  to  her 
husband.”  He  adds,  in  a  note,  “  this 
Princess  had  already  had  five  sons, 
Frederick,  Ascanio,  Ferdinando,  Ca- 
millo,  Sciarra.” 

Coppi,  in  his  u  Memorie  Colonnesi,” 
makes  no  mention1  of  the  last  three, 
— giving  as  the  offspring  of  F abrizio  and 

1  He  speaks,  indeed,  (p.  236,)  of  Sciarra  as  a  brother  of 
Ascanio  •  adding,  that  he  was  illegitimate. 


20 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


Agnes,  only  Frederick,  Ascanio,  and 
Vittoria.  Led  by  this  discrepancy 
to  examine  further  the  accuracy  of 
Visconti’s  statement,  I  found  that  Agnes 
di  Montefeltre  was  born  in  1472  ;  and 
was,  consequently,  eighteen  years  old 
at  the  time  of  Vittoria’s  birth.  It  be¬ 
came  clear,  therefore,  that  it  was  ex¬ 
ceedingly  improbable,  not  to  say  im¬ 
possible,  thatshe  should  have  had  five 
children  previously.  But  I  found  far¬ 
ther,  that  Frederick  the  eldest  son,  and 
always  hitherto  said  to  have  been  the 
eldest  child  of  Agnes,  died  according 
to  the  testimony  of  his  tombstone,1 
still  existing  in  the  Church  of  Santa 
Maria  di  Pallazzola,  in  the  year  1516, 
being  then  in  his  nineteenth  year.  He 
was,  therefore,  born  in  1497  or  1498, 
and  must  have  been  seven  or  eight 
years  younger  than  Vittoria ;  who 
must,  it  should  seem,  have  been  the 

1  Coppi,  Mem.  Col.  p.  269. 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


21 


eldest  and  not  the  youngest  of  her  pa¬ 
rents’  children. 

It  can  scarcely  be  necessary  to  tell 
even  the  most  exclusively  English 
reader,  how  ancient,  how  noble,  how 
magnificent,  was  the  princely  house  of 
Colonna.  They  were  so  noble,  that 
their  lawless  violence,  freebooting  hab¬ 
its,  private  wars,  and  clan  enmities, 
rendered  them  a  scourge  to  their 
country  ;  and  for  several  centuries  con¬ 
tributed  largely  to  the  mass  of  anarchy 
and  barbarism,  that  rendered  Rome 
one  of  the  most  insecure  places  of 
abode  in  Europe,  and  still  taints  the 
instincts  of  its  popu^ce  with  charac¬ 
teristics,  which  make  it  one  of  the  least 
civilizable  races  of  Italy.  The  Orsini 
being  equally  noble,  and  equally  pow¬ 
erful  and  lawless,  the  high-bred  mastiffs 
of  either  princely  house  for  more  than 
200  years,  with  short  respites  ot  ill-kept 
truce,  never  lost  an  opportunity  ot  fly- 


22 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


ing  at  each  other  8  throats,  to  the 
infinite  annoyance  and  injury  of  their 
less  noble  and  more  peaceably  disposed 
fellow-citizens. 

Though  the  possessions  of  the  Colon- 
na  clan  had  before  been  wide-spread 
and  extensive,  they  received  consider¬ 
able  additions  during  the  Papacy  of 
the  Colonna  pope,  Martin  V.,  great 
uncle  of  Fabrizio,  Vittoria’s  father, 
who  occupied  the  Papal  chair  from 
1417  to  1431.  At  the  period  of  our 
heroine’s  birth  the  family  property 
was  immense. 

Very  many  were  the  fiefs  held  by 
the  Colonna  in  the  immediate  neigh¬ 
borhood  of  the*  city,  and  especially 
among  the  hills  to  the  east  and  south¬ 
east  of  the  Campagna.  There  several 
of  the  strongest  positions,  and  most 
delightfully  situated  towns  and  castles, 
belonged  to  them. 

Among  the  more  important  of  these 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


23 


was  Marino,  admirably  placed  among 
the  hills  that  surround  the  lovely  lake 
of  Albano. 

Few  excursionists  among  the  storied 
sites  in  the  environs  of  Rome  make 
Marino  the  object  of  a  pilgrimage. 
The  town  has  a  bad  name  in  these 
days.  The  Colonna  vassals  who  in¬ 
habit  it,  and  still  pay  to  the  feudal  lord 
a  tribute,  recently  ruled  by  the  Roman 
tribunals  to  be  due  (a  suit  having  been 
instituted  by  the  inhabitants  with  a 
view  of  shaking  oif  this  old  mark  of 
vassalage),  are  said  to  be  eminent 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  Cam- 
pagna  for  violence,  lawlessness,  and  dis¬ 
honesty.  The  bitterest  hatred,  the  leg¬ 
acy  of  old  wrong  and  oppression,  is  felt 
by  them  against  their  feudal  lords ;  and 
this  sentiment,  which,  inherited,  as  it 
seems  to  be,  from  generation  to  gener¬ 
ation,  speaks  but  little  in  favor  of  the 
old  feudal  rule,  does  not  tend  to  make 


24 


Vittorio,  Oolonna. 


the  men  of  Marino  good  or  safe  sub¬ 
jects.  Many  a  stranger  has,  however, 
probably  looked  down  from  the  beauti¬ 
fully  wooded  heights  of  Castel  Gandolfo 
on  the  picturesquely  gloomy  little  wall¬ 
ed  town  creeping  up  the  steep  side  of 
its  hill,  and  crowned  by  the  ancient 
seignorial  residence  it  so  much  detests. 
And  any  one  of  these  would  be  able  to 
assure  a  recent  intensely  French  biog¬ 
rapher  of  Yittoria,  that  he  is  in  error 
in  supposing  that  the  town  and  castle 
of  Marino  have  so  entirely  perished 
and  been  forgotten,  that  the  site  of 
th&m  even  is  now  unknown  !  1 

On  the  contrary  the  old  castle  has 
recently  been  repaired  and  modernized 
into  a  very  handsome  nineteenth  cen¬ 
tury  residence,  to  the  no  small  injury 
of  its  outward  appearance  in  a  pictu- 


1  Which  is  the  truly  wonderful  assertion  of  M.  le  Ferre 
Deumier,  in  his  little  volume  entitled  “  Vittoria  Colonna;  ” 
Paris,  1856,  p.  7. 


Vittorio,  Colonna . 


25 


resque  and  historical  point  of  view. 
The  interior  still  contains  unchanged 
several  of  the  nobly  proportioned  old 
halls,  which  were  planned  at  a  time 
when  mighty  revels  in  the  rare  times 
of  peace,  and  defence  in  the  more  nor¬ 
mal  condition  of  clan  warfare,  were 
the  object  held  in  view  by  the  builder. 
Many  memorials  of  interest,  moreover, 
pictures,  and  other  records  of  the  old 
times  were  brought  to  Marino  from 
Pali  an  o,  when  the  Colonna  family 
were  in  the  time  of  the  last  Pope, 
most  unjustly  compelled  to  sell  the 
latter  possession  to  the  Pom  an  govern¬ 
ment.  Paliano,  which  from  its  moun¬ 
tain  position  is  extremely  strong  and 
easily  defended,  seemed  to  the  govern¬ 
ment  of  the  Holy  Father  to  be  admira¬ 
bly  adapted  to  that  prime  want  of  a 
Papal  despotism,  a  prison  for  political 
offenders.  The  Colonnas,  therefore, 
were  invited  to  sell  it  to  the  state ;  and 


26 


Vittorio,  Colonna . 


on  their  declining  to  do  so,  received 
an  intimation,  that  the  paternal  govern¬ 
ment  having  determined  on  possessing 
it,  and  having  also  fixed  the  price  they 
intended  to  give  for  it,  no  option  in  the 
matter  could  be  permitted  them.  So 
Marino  was  enriched  by  all  that  was 
transferable  of  the  ancient  memorials 
that  had  gathered  around  the  stronger 
mountain  fortress  in  the  course  of 
centuries. 

It  was  at  Marino  that  Vittoria  was 
born,  in  a  rare  period  of  most  unusual¬ 
ly  prolonged  peace.  Her  parents  had 
selected,  we  are  told,  from  among  their 
numerous  castles,  that  beautiful  spot, 
for  the  enjoyment  of  the  short  inter¬ 
val  of  tranquillity  which  smiled  on 
their  first  years  1  of  marriage.  A  very 
successful  raid,  in  which  Fabrizio  and 

1  As  it  would  appear  they  must  have  been,  from  the 
dates  given  abovo  to  show  that  Vittoria  must  have  been 
their  first  child. 


Vitt  oria  C olonna . 


27 


his  cousin  Prospero  Colonna  had  har¬ 
ried  the  fiefs  of  the  Orsini,  and  driven 
ofi*  a  great  quantity  of  cattle,1  had 
been  followed  by  a  peace  made  under 
the  auspices  of  Innocent  YIII.  on  the 
11th  August,  1486,  which  seems  abso¬ 
lutely  to  have  lasted  till  1494,  when 
we  find  the  two  cousins  at  open  war 
with  the  new  Pope  Alexander  VI. 

Par  more  important  contests,  how¬ 
ever,  were  at  hand,  the  progress  of 
which  led  to  the  youthful  daughter  of 
the  house  being  treated,  while  yet  in 
her  fifth  year,  as  part  of  the  family 
capital,  to  be  made  use  of  for  the  ad¬ 
vancement  of  the  family  interests,  and 
thus  fixed  the  destiny  of  her  life. 

When  Charles  VIII.  passed  through 
Pome  on  his  march  against  Naples  at 
the  end  of  1494,  the  Colonna  cousins 
sided  with  him ;  placed  themselves 
under  his  banners,  and  contributed 


1  Coppl.  Mem.  Col.,  p.  228. 


28 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


materially  to  aid  his  successful  invasion. 
But  on  his  flight  from  Naples  in  1495, 
they  suddenly  changed  sides,  and  took 
service  under  Ferdinand  II.  The  fact 
of  this  change  of  party,  which  to  our 
ideas  seems  to  require  so  much  expla¬ 
nation,  probably  appeared  to  their  con¬ 
temporaries  a  perfectly  simple  matter  ; 
for  it  is  mentioned  as  such  without  any 
word  of  the  motives  or  causes  of  it. 
Perhaps  they  merely  sought  to  sever 
themselves  from  a  losing  game.  Pos¬ 
sibly,  as  we  find  them  rewarded  for 
their  adherence  to  the  King  of  Naples 
by  the  grant  of  a  great  number  of  hefs 
previously  possessed  by  the  Orsini,  who 
were  on  the  other  side,  they  were  in¬ 
duced  to  change  their  allegiance  by 
the  hope  of  obtaining  those  possessions, 
and  by  the  Colonna  instinct  of  enmity 
to  the  Orsini  race.  Ferdinand,  how¬ 
ever,  was  naturally  anxious  to  have 
some  better  hold  over  his  new  friends 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


29 


than  that  furnished  by  their  own  oaths 
of  fealty  ;  and  with  this  view  caused 
the  infant  Vittoria  to  be  betrothed  to 
his  subject,  Ferdinand  d’ Avalos,  son 
of  Alphonso,  Marquis  of  Pescara,  a 
child  of  about  the  same  age  as  the 
little  bride. 

Little,  as  it  must  appear  to  our  modern 
notions,  as  the  child’s  future  happiness 
could  have  been  cared  for  in  the  stipu¬ 
lation  of  a  contract  entered  into  from 
such  motives,  it  so  turned  out,  that  noth¬ 
ing  could  have  more  effectually  se¬ 
cured  it.  To  Vittoria’s  parents,  if  any 
doubts  on  such  a  point  had  presented 
themselves  to  their  minds,  it  would 
doubtless  have  appeared  abundantly 
sufficient  to  know,  that  the  rank  and 
position  of  the  affianced  bridegroom 
were  such,  as  to  secure  their  daughter 
one  of  the  highest  places  among  the 
nobility  of  the  court  of  Naples,  and  the 
enjoyment  of  vast  and  wide-spread  pos- 
3* 


30 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


sessions.  But  to  Vittoria  herself  all 
this  would  not  have  been  enough.  And 
the  earliest  and  most  important  advan¬ 
tage  arising  to  her  from  her  betrothal 
was  the  bringing  her  under  the  influ¬ 
ence  of  that  training,  which  made  her 
such  a  woman,  as  could  not  find  her 
happiness  in  such  matters. 

We  are  told,  that  henceforth,  that  is, 
after  the  betrothal,  she  was  educated  to¬ 
gether  with  her  future  husband,  in  the 
island  of  Ischia,  under  the  care  of  the 
widowed  Duchessa  di  Francavilla,  the 
young  Pescara’s  elder  sister.  Costanza 
d’Avalos,  Duchessa  di  Francavilla,  ap¬ 
pears  to  have  been  one  of  the  most  re¬ 
markable  women  of  her  time.  When 
her  father  Alphonso,  Marchesa  di  Pes¬ 
cara,  lost  his  life  by  the  treason  of  a 
black  slave  on  the  7th  of  September, 
1495,  leaving  Ferdinand  his  son  the 
heir  to  his  titles  and  estates,  an  infant 
five  years  old,  then  quite  recently  be- 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


31 


frothed  to  Vittoria,  the  Duchessa  di 
Francavilla  assumed  the  entire  direction 
and  governance  of  the  family.  So  high 
was  her  reputation  for  prudence,  energy, 
and  trust-worthiness  in  every  way,  that 
on  the  death  of  her  husband,  King  Fer¬ 
dinand  made  her  governor  and  “  chate- 
'  laine  ”  of  Ischia,  one  of  the  most  im¬ 
portant  keys  ot  the  kingdom.  Nor  were 
her  gifts  and  qualities  only  such  as 
were  calculated  to  fit  her  for  holding 
such  a  post.  Her  contemporary,  Cate- 
rina  Sforza,  would  have  made  a  “  chate¬ 
laine  ”  as  vigilant,  as  prudent,  as  brave 
and  energetic  as  Costanza.  But  the 
Neapolitan  lady  was  something  more 
than  this. 

Intellectual  culture  had  been  held  in 
honor  at  Naples  during  the  entire  pe¬ 
riod  of  the  Arragonese  dynasty.  All 
the  princes  of  that  house,  with  the  ex¬ 
ception,  perhaps,  of  Alphonso,  the  fa¬ 
ther  of  Ferdinand  II.,  had  been  lovers 


32 


Vittoria  C olonn a. 


of  literature  and  patrons  of  learning. 
Of  this  Ferdinand  II .,  under  whose  aus¬ 
pices  the  young  Pescara  was  betroth¬ 
ed  to  Vittoria,  and  who  chose  the  Du- 
chessa  di  Franca  villa  as  his  governor 
in  Ischia,  it  is  recorded,  that  when  re¬ 
turning  in  triumph  to  his  kingdom  after 
the  retreat  of  the  French,  he  rode  into 
Naples  with  the  Marchese  de  Pescara 
on  his  right  hand,  and  the  poet  Cariteo 
on  his  left.  Poets  and  their  art  espe¬ 
cially  were  welcomed  in  that  literary 
court ;  and  the  tastes  and  habits  of  the 
Neapolitan  nobles  were  at  that  period 
probably  more  tempered  by  those  stud¬ 
ies,  which  humanize  the  mind  and  man¬ 
ners,  than  the  chivalry  of  any  other  part 
of  Italy. 

Among  this  cultured  society  Costanza 
d’Avalos  was  eminent  for  culture,  and 
admirably  qualified  in  every  respect 
to  make  an  invaluable  protectress  and 
friend  to  her  youthful  sister-in-law. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


83 


The  transplantation,  indeed,  of  the  in¬ 
fant  Colonna  from  her  native  feudal 
castle  to  the  Duchessa  di  Francavilla’s 
home  in  Ischia,  was  a  change  so  com¬ 
plete  and  so  favorable,  that  it  may  be 
fairly  supposed,  that  without  it  the 
young  Homan  girl  would  not  have 
grown  into  the  woman  she  did. 

For  in  truth  Marino,  little  calculated, 
as  it  will  be  supposed,  such  a  stronghold 
of  the  ever  turbulent  Colonna  was  at 
any  time  to  afford  the  means  and  op¬ 
portunity  for  intellectual  culture,  be¬ 
came  shortly  after  the  period  of  Vitto- 
ria’s  betrothal  to  the  heir  of  the  D’Ava- 
los,  whollv  unfit  to  offer  her  even  a  safe 
home.  Whether  it  continued  to  be  the 
residence  of  Agnes,  while  her  husband 
Fabrizio  was  fighting  in  Naples,  and 
her  daughter  was  under  the  care  of 
the  Duchessa  di  Francavilla  in  Ischia, 
has  not  been  recorded.  But  we  find 
that  when  Fabrizio  had  deserted  the 


34 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


French  king,  and  ranged  himself  on 
the  side  of  Ferdinand  of  Naples,  he 
was  fully  aware  of  the  danger  to  which 
his  castles  would  he  exposed  at  the 
hands  of  the  French  troops  as^  they 
passed  through  Home  on  their  way  to 
or  from  Naples.  To  provide  against 
this,  he  had  essayed  to  place  them  in 
safety  by  consigning  them  as  a  deposit 
in  trust  to  the  Sacred  College.1  But 
Pope  Borgia,  deeming,  probably,  that 
he  might  find  the  means  of  possessing 
himself  of  some  of  the  estates  in  ques¬ 
tion,  refused  to  permit  this,  ordering 
that  they  should,  instead,  be  delivered 
into  his  keeping.  On  this  being  re¬ 
fused,  he  ordered  Marino  to  be  level¬ 
led  to  the  ground.  And  Guicciardini 
writes,2  that  the  Colonna,  having 
placed  garrisons  in  Amelici  and  Boc- 
ca  di  Papa,  two  other  of  the  family 
strongholds,  abandoned  all  the  rest  of 


1  Coppi.  mem.  Col.,  p.  248. 


2  Book  v.  chap.  li. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


35 


the  possessions  in  the  Roman  States.  It 
seems  probable,  therefore,  that  Agnes 
accompanied  her  husband  and  daugh¬ 
ter  to  Naples.  Subsequently  the  same 
historian  relates,1  that  Marino  was 
burned  by  order  of  Clement  YII  in 
1526.  So  that  it  must  be  supposed, 
that  the  order  of  Alexander  for  its  ut¬ 
ter  destruction  in  1501  was  not  wholly 
carried  into  execution. 

The  kingdom  and  city  of  Naples  was 
during  this  time  by  no  means  without 
a  large  share  of  the  turmoil  and  war¬ 
fare  that  was  vexing  every  part  of 
Italy.  Yet  whosoever  had  Ids  lot  cast 

i/ 

during  those  years  elsewhere  than  in 
Rome  was  in  some  degree  fortunate. 
And  considering  the  general  state  of 
the  Peninsula,  and  her  own  social 
position  and  connections,  Yittoria  may 
be  deemed  very  particularly  so  to  have 
found  a  safe  retreat,  and  an  admirably 


1  Book  xvii.  chaps,  iii.  and  iv. 


30 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


governed  home  on  the  rock  of  Ischia. 
In  after  life  we  find  her  clinging  to  it 
with  tenacious  affection,  and  dedi¬ 
cating  more  than  one  sonnet  to  the  re¬ 
membrances  which  made  it  sacred  to 
her.  And  though  in  her  widowhood 
her  memory  naturally  most  frequently 
recurs  to  the  happy  years  of  her  mar¬ 
ried  life  there,  the  remote  little  island 
had  at  least  a  strong  claim  upon  her 
affections  as  the  home  of  her  child¬ 
hood.  For  to  the  years  there  passed 
under  the  care  of  her  noble  sister-in- 
law,  Costanza  d’ Avalos,  she  owed  the 
possibility,  that  the  daughter  of  a  Ho¬ 
man  chieftain  who  passed  his  life  in 
harrying  others  and  being  harried  him¬ 
self,  and  in  acquiring  as  a  “  condot- 
tiere  ”  captain  the  reputation  of  one 
of  the  first  soldiers  of  his  day,  could 
become  either  morally  or  intellectually 
the  woman  Yittoria  Colonna  became. 


Vi  t tor  in  Colonn n. 


n 


h 

4 


CHAPTER  II. 


Vittoria’s  Personal  Appearance. — First  love. — A  Noble  Sol¬ 
dier  of  Fortune. — Italian  Wars  of  the  Fifteenth  and  Six¬ 
teenth  Centuries. — The  Colonna  Fortunes. — Death  of  Fer¬ 
dinand  II. — The  Neapolitans  carry  Coals  to  Newcastle. — 
Events  in  Ischia. — Ferdinand  of  Spain  in  Naples. — Life  in 
Naples  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.— Marriage  of  Pescara 
with  Yittoria. — Marriage  Presents. 


From  the  time  of  her  betrothal  in  1495 
to  that  of  her  marriage  in  1509,  history 
altogether  loses  sight  of  Vittoria.  We 
must  suppose  her  to  be  quietly  and  hap¬ 
pily  growing  from  infancy  to  adolescence 
under  the  roof  of  Costanza  d’  Aval  os, 
the  chatelaine  of  Iscliia,  sharing  the 
studies  of  her  future  husband  and 

present  playmate,  and  increasing,  a  in 

4  * 


38 


'Vittoria  Oolonna. 


stature,  so  in  every  grace  both  of 
mind  and  body.  The  young  Pescara 
seems  also  to  have  profited  by  the 
golden  opportunities  offered  him  of  be¬ 
coming  something  better  than  a  mere 
jpreux  chevalier.  A  taste  for  literature, 
and  especially  for  poesy,  was  then  a 
ruling  fashion  among  the  nobles  of  the 
court  of  Naples.  And  the  young  Fer¬ 
dinand,  of  whose  personal  beauty  and 
knightly  accomplishments  we  hear 
much,  manifested  also  excellent  qual¬ 
ities  of  disposition  and  intelligence. 
His  biographer  Giovio1  tells  us  that  his 
beard  was  auburn,  his  nose  aquiline, 
his  eyes  large  and  fiery  when  excited, 
but  mild  and  gentle  at  other  times. 
He  was,  however,  considered  proud, 
adds  Bishop  Giovio,  on  account  of  his 
haughty  carriage,  the  little  familiarity 
of  his  manners,  and  his  grave  and  brief 
fashion  of  speech. 

1  Giovio,  Vita  del  Mar.  di  Pescara,  Venice,  1557,  p.  14. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


39 


To  his  playmate  Vittoria,  the  com¬ 
panion  of  his  studies  and  hours  of  re¬ 
creation,  this  sterner  mood  was  doubt¬ 
less  modified ;  and  with  all  the  good 
gifts  attributed  to  him,  it  was  natural 
enough  that  before  the  time  had  come 
for  consummating  the  infant  betrothal, 
the  union  planned  for  political  pur¬ 
poses  had  changed  itself  into  a  verita¬ 
ble  love-match.  The  affection  seems 
to  have  been  equal  on  either  side; 
and  Vittoria,  if  we  are  to  believe  the 
concurrent  testimony  of  nearly  all  the 
poets  and  literateurs  of  her  day,  must 
have  been  beautiful  and  fascinating  in 
no  ordinary  degree.  The  most  authen¬ 
tic  portrait1  of  her  is  one  preserved  in 
the  Colonna  gallery  at  Home,  supposed 
to  be  a  copy  by  Girolamo  Muziano, 
from  an  original  picture  by  some  artist 
Df  higher  note.  It  is  a  beautiful  face 
of  the  true  Homan  type,  perfectly 

1  Visconti,  Rimi  di  Vit.  Col.,  p.  39. 


40 


"Vittorio,  G olonna. 


regular,  of  exceeding  purity  of  outline, 
and  perhaps  a  little  heavy  about  the 
lower  part  of  the  face.  But  the  calm, 
large,  thoughtful  eye,  and  the  superbly 
developed  forehead,  secure  it  from  any 
approach  towards  an  expression  of 
sensualism.  The  fulness  of  the  lip  is 
only  sufficient  to  indicate  that  sensi¬ 
tiveness  to,  and  appreciation  of  beauty, 
which  constitutes  an  essential  element 
in  the  poetical  temperament.  The  hair 
is  of  that  bright  golden  tint  that  Titian 
loved  so  well  to  paint ;  and  its  beauty 
has  been  especially  recorded  by  more 
than  one  of  her  contemporaries.  The' 
poet  Galeazzo  da  Tarsia,  who  professed 
himself,  after  the  fashion  of  the  time, 
her  most  fervent  admirer  and  devoted 
slave,  recurs  in  many  passages  of  his 
poems  to  those  fascinating  “  chiome 
d’oro;”  as  here  he  sings,  with  more 
enthusiasm  than  taste,  of  the 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


41 


“  Trecce  d’or,  che  in  gli  alti  giri, 

Non  e  che’  unqua  pareggi  o  sole  o  stella ;  ” 

or  again  where  lie  tells  us,  that  the  sun 
and  his  lady-love  appeared 

“  Ambi  con  chiome  d’or  lucide  e  terse.” 

But  the  testimony  of  graver  writers, 
lay  and  clerical,  is  not  wanting  to  in¬ 
duce  us  to  believe,  that  Vittoria  in  her 
.  prime  really  might  be  considered  “the 
most  beautiful  woman  of  her  day  ” 
with  more  truth  than  that  hackneyed 
phrase  often  conveys.  So  when  at 
length  the  Colonna  seniors,  and  the 
Duchessa  di  Francavilla  thought,  that 
the  fitting  moment  had  arrived  for 
carrying  into  effect  the  long-standing 
engagement — which  was  not  till  1509, 
when  the  ypromessi  sposi  were  both 
in  their  nineteenth  year — the  young 
couple  were  thoroughly  in  love  with 
each  other,  and  went  to  the  altar  with 
every  prospect  of  wedded  happiness. 

4* 


42 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


But  during  these  quiet  years  of  study 
and  development  in  little  rock-bound 
Ischia,  the  world  without  was  any  tiling 
hut  quiet,  as  the  outline  of  Neapolitan 
history  in  the  last  chapter  sufficiently 
indicates  ;  and  Fabrizio  Colonna  was 
ever  in  the  thick  of  the  confusion.  As 
long  as  the  Aragonese  m on  arch  s  kept 
up  the  struggle,  he  fought  for  them  up¬ 
on  the  losing  side  ;  but  when,  after  the  • 
retreat  of  Frederick,  the  last  of  them, 
the  contest  was  between  the  French 
and  the  Spaniards,  he  chose  the  latter, 
which  proved  to  be  the  winning  side. 
Frederick,  on  abandoning  Naples, 
threw  himself  on  the  hospitality  of  the 
King  of  France,  an  enemy  much  less 
hated  by  him  than  was  Ferdinand  of 
Spain,  who  had  so  shamefully  de¬ 
ceived  and  betrayed  him.  But  his 
high  Constable,  Fabrizio  Colonna,  not 
sharing,  as  it  should  seem,  his  sover¬ 
eign’s  feelings  on  the  subject,  transfer- 


Victoria  C olonna. 


43 


red  liis  allegiance  to  the  King  of  Spain. 
And  again,  this  change  of  fealty  and 
service  seems  to  have  been  considered 
so  much  in  the  usual  course  of  things, 
that  it  elicits  no  remark  from  the  con¬ 
temporary  writers. 

In  fact,  the  noble  Fabrizio,  the  bearer 
of  a  grand  old  Italian  name,  the  lord 
of  many  a  powerful  barony,  and  owner 
of  many  a  mile  of  fair  domain,  a  Ro¬ 
man  patrician  of  pure  Italian  race,  to 
whom,  if  to  any,  the  honor,  the  inde¬ 
pendence,  the  interests,  and  the  name 
of  Italy  should  have  been  dear,  was  a 
mere  Captain  of  free  lances, — a  sol¬ 
dier  of  fortune,  ready  to  sell  his  blood 
and  great  military  talents  in  the  best 
market.  The  best  of  his  fellow  nobles 
in  all  parts  of  Italy  were  the  same. 
Their  profession  was  fighting.  And 
mere  fighting,  in  wdiatever  cause,  so  it 
were  bravely  and  knightly  done,  was 
the  most  honored  and  noblest  profes- 


14 


I Tittoria  C olon^ia. 


sion  of  that  day.  So  much  of  real 
greatness  as  could  be  imparted  to  the 
profession  of  war,  by  devotion  to  a 
person,  might  occasionally — though 
not  very  frequently  in  Italy — have 
been  met  with  among  the  soldiers  of 
that  period.  But  all  those  elements 
of  genuine  heroism,  which  are  gene¬ 
rated  by  devotion  to  a  cause ,  and  all 
those  ideas  of  patriotism,  of  resistance 
to  wrong,  and  assertion  of  human 
rights,  which  compel  the  philosopher 
and  philanthropist  to  admit  that  war 
may  sometimes  be  righteous,  noble, 
elevating,  to  those  engaged  in  it,  and 
prolific  of  high  thoughts  and  great 
deeds,  were  wholly  unknown  to  the 
chivalry  of  Italy  at  the  time  in  question. 

And,  indeed,  as  far  as  the  feeling  of 
nationality  is  concerned,  the  institution 
of  knighthood  itself,  as  it  then  existed, 
was  calculated  to  prevent  the  growth 
of  patriotic  sentiment.  For  the  com- 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


45 


monwealth  of  chivalry  was  of  European 
extent.  The  knights  of  England, 
France,  Italy,  Spain,  and  Germany, 
were  brothers  in  arms,  linked  together 
by  a  community  of  thought  and  senti¬ 
ment  infinitely  stronger  than  any  which 
bound  them  to  the  other  classes  of  their 
own  countrymen.  The  aggregation  of 
caste  wholly  overbore  that  of  nation¬ 
ality.  And  the  nature  of  the  former, 
though  not  wholly  evil  in  its  influences, 
any  more  than  that  of  the  latter  is 
wholly  good,  is  yet  infinitely  narrower, 
less  humanizing,  and  less  ennobling  in 
its  action  on  human  motives  and  conduct. 
And  war,  the  leading  aggregative  occu¬ 
pation  of  those  days,  was  proportionably 
narrowed  in  its  scope,  deteriorated  in 
its  influences,  and  rendered  incapable 
of  supplying  that  stimulus  to  healthy 
human  development  which  it  has  in  its 
more  noble  forms,  indisputably  some¬ 
times  furnished  to  mankind. 


46 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


And  it  is  important  to  the  great  his¬ 
tory  of  modern  civilization,  that  these 
truths  should  be  recognized  and  clearly 
understood.  For  this  same  period, 
which  is  here  in  question,  was,  as  all 
know,  one  of  great  intellectual  ac¬ 
tivity,  of  rapid  development,  and  fruit¬ 
ful  progress.  And  historical  specula¬ 
tors  on  these  facts,  finding  this  unusual 
movement  of  mind  contemporaneous 
with  a  time  of  almost  universal  and  un¬ 
ceasing  warfare,  have  thought,  that 
some  of  the  producing  causes  of  the 
former  fact  were  to  be  found  in  the  ex¬ 
istence  of  the  latter  ;  and  have  argued, 
that  the  general  ferment,  and  stirring 
up,  produced  by  these  chivalrous,  but 
truly  ignoble  wars,  assisted  mainly  in 
generating  that  exceptionally  fervid 
condition  of  the  human  mind.  But, 
admitting  that  a  time  of  national  strug¬ 
gle  for  some  worthy  object  may  prob¬ 
ably  be  lound  to  exercise  such  an  in- 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


47 


fluence,  as  tliat  attributed  to  the  Italian 
wars  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  cen¬ 
turies,  it  is  certain  that  these  latter 
were  ot  no  such  ennobling  nature.  And 
the  causes  of  the  great  intellectual 
movement  of  those  centuries  must  there¬ 
fore  be  sought  elsewhere. 

From  the  time  when  “  il  gran  Ca- 
pitano  ”  Consalvo,  on  behalf  of  his  mas¬ 
ter,  Ferdinand  of  Spain,  having  pre¬ 
viously  assisted  the  French  in  driving 
out  the  unfortunate  Frederick,  the  last 
of  the  Aragonese  kings  of  Naples,  had 
afterwards  finally  succeeded  in  expel¬ 
ling  the  French  from  their  share  of  the 
stolen  kingdom,  the  affairs  of  the  Co- 
lonna  cousins,  Fabrizio  and  Prospero, 
began  to  brighten.  The  last  French 
troops  quitted  Naples  on  January  1, 
1504.  By  a  diploma,  bearing  date  No¬ 
vember  15,  1504, 1  and  still  preserved 
among  the  Colonna  archives,  eighteen 


1  Coppi,  Mem.  Col.,  p  249. 


48 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


baronies  were  conferred  on  Prospero 
Colonna  by  Ferdinand.  On  the  28th 
of  the  same  month,  all  the  fiefs  which 
Fabrizio  had  formerly  possessed  in  the 
Abruzzi  were  restored  to  him ;  and  by 
another  deed,  dated  the  same  day, 
thirty-three  others,  in  the  Abruzzi  and 
the  Terra  di  Lavoro,  were  bestowed  on 
him. 

In  the  mean  time,  earth  had  been  re¬ 
lieved  from  the  presence  of  the  Borgia 
Vicegerent  of  heaven,  and  Julius  II 
reigned  in  his  stead..  By  him  the  Co¬ 
lonna  were  relieved  from  their  excom¬ 
munication,  and  restored  to  all  their 
Homan  possessions.  So  that  the  newTs 
of  the  family  fortunes,  which  from  time 
to  time  reached  the  daughter  of  the 
house  in  her  happy  retirement  in  rocky 
Ischia,  from  the  period  at  which  she  be¬ 
gan  to  be  of  an  age  to  appreciate  the 
importance  of  such  matters,  were  alto¬ 
gether  favorable. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


49 


But  the  tranquil  life  there  during 
these  years  was  not  unbroken  by  sym¬ 
pathy  with  the  vicissitudes  which  were 
variously  affecting  the  excitable  city, 
over  which  the  little  recluse  court  look¬ 
ed  from  their  island  home.  The  un¬ 
timely  death  of  Ferdinand  II,  on  Fri¬ 
day,  October  7,  1496,  threw  the  first 
deep  shade  over  the  household  of  the 
Duchessa  di  Francavilia,  which  had 
crossed  it  since  Vittoria  had  become  its 
inmate.  Never,  according  to  the  con¬ 
temporary  journalist,  Giuliano  Passeri,1 
was  prince  more  truly  lamented  by  his 
people  of  every  class.  Almost  imme¬ 
diately  after  his  marriage,  the  young 
king  and  his  wife  both  fell  ill  at  Som- 
ma,  near  Naples.  The  diarist  describes 
the  melancholy  spectacle  of  the  two 
biers,  supporting  the  sick  king  and 
queen,  entering  their  capital  side  by 
side.  Everv  thiim  that  the  science  of 

*/  o 


5 


1  Note  1. 


50 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


the  time  could  suggest,  even  to  the  car¬ 
rying  in  procession  of  the  head  as  well 
as  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius,  was  tried 
in  vain.  The  young  king,  of  whom  so 
much  was  hoped,  died  ;  and  there  arose 
throughout  the  city,  writes  Passeri,  “  a 
cry  of  weeping  so  great,  that  it  seemed  as 
if  the  whole  world  were  falling  in  ruin, 
all,  both  great  and  small,  male  and  fe¬ 
male,  crying  aloud  to  heaven  for  pity. 
So  that  I  £pily  think,  that  since  God 
made  the  world,  a  greater  weeping  than 
this  was  never  known.” 

Then  came  the  great  Jubilee  year, 
1500;  on  which  occasion  a  circumstance 
occurred,  that  set  all  Naples  talking.  It 
was  discussed,  we  may  shrewdly  con¬ 
jecture,  in  a  somewhat  different  spirit 
in  that  Ischia  household,  which  most 
interests  us,  from  the  tone  in  which  the 
excitable  city  chattered  of  it.  At  the 
beginning  of  April,1  the  Neapolitans, 


1  Passeri,  p  122. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


51 


in  honor  of  the  great  Jubilee,  sent  a 
deputation,  carrying  with  them  the  cele¬ 
brated  Virgin,  della  Bruna  dello  Car¬ 
mine,  who  justified  her  reputation,  and 
did  credit  to  her  country  by  working 
innumerable  miracles  all  the  way  as  she 
went.  But  what  was  the  mortification 
of  her  bearers,  when  arrived  at  Home, 
the  result  of  the  fame  arising  from  their 
triumphant  progress  was,  that  Pope 
Borgia,  jealous  of  a  foreign  Virgin, 
which  might  divert  the  alms  of  the 
faithful  from  the  Roman  begging  boxes, 
showed  himself  so  thorough  a  protec¬ 
tionist  of  the  home  manufacture,  that 
he  ordered  the  Neapolitan  Virgin  to  be 
carried  back  again  immediately.  This 
had  to  be  done ;  but  Madonna  della 
Bruna,  nothing  daunted,  worked  mir¬ 
acles  faster  than  ever  as  she  was  being 
carried  off,  and  continued  to  do  so  all 
the  way  home. 

In  July,  1501,  there  came  a  guest  to 


02 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


the  dwelling  of  Costanza  d’Avalos, 
whose  coming  and  going  must  have 
made  a  durable  impression  on  the  open¬ 
ing  mind  of  Vittoria,  then  just  eleven 
.years  old.  This  was  Frederick,  the 
last  of  the  Aragonese  kings.  When  all 
had  gone  against  him,  and  the  French 
had  taken,  and  most  cruelly  sacked 
Capua,  and  were  advancing  on  Naples,1 
he  sought  refuge  with  his  wife  and  chil¬ 
dren  on  the  Island  of  Ischia,  and  re¬ 
mained  there  till  he  left  it  on  the  6th 
ot  September  to  throw  himself  on  the 
generosity  of  the  French  King.  Fa- 
brizio  Colonna  was,  it  is  recorded,  with 
him  on  the  island,  where  the  fallen 
king  left  for  a  while  his  wife  and  chil- 
dien  ;  and  had  then  an  opportunity  of 
seeing,-  as  far  as  the  brave  condottiere 
chieftain  had  eyes  to  see  such  matters, 

'  the  progress  his  daughter  had  made 
in  all  graces  and  good  gifts  during  six 

1  Passeri,  p.  126. 


"Vittorio,  C olonna. 


53 


years  of  the  superintendence  of  Costan¬ 
za  d’Avalos. 

Then  there  came  occasionally  events, 
which  doubtless  called  the  Duchessa  di 
Francavilla  from  her  retirement  to  the 
neighboring,  but  strongly  contrasted 
scene  of  Naples ;  and  in  all  probability 
furnished  opportunities  of  showing  her 
young  pupil  something  of  the  great  and 
gay  world  of  the  brilliant  and  always 
noisy  capital.  Such,  for  instance,  was 
the  entry  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain  into 
Naples,  on  November  1, 1506.  The  same 
people,  who  so  recently  were  making 
the  greatest  lamentation  ever  heard  in 
the  world  over  the  death  of  Ferdinand 
of  Aragon,  were  now  equally  loud  and 
vehement1  in  their  welcome  to  his  false 
usurping  kinsman,  Ferdinand  ol  Castile. 
A  pier  was  run  out  an  hundred  paces 
into  the  sea  for  him  and  his  queen  to 
land  at,  and  a  tabernacle,  “  all  of  line 


*  Passer!,  p.  146. 


54 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


wrought  gold,”  says  Passeri,  erected  on 
it  for  him  to  rest  in.  The  city  wall 
wras  thrown  down  to  make  a  new  pas¬ 
sage  for  his  entrance  into  the  city  ;  all 
Naples  was  gay  with  triumphal  arches 
and  hangings.  The  mole,  writes  the 
same  gossiping  authority,  wTas  so  crowd¬ 
ed,  that  a  grain  of  millet  thrown  among 
them  would  not  have  reached  the 
ground.  Nothing  was  to  be  heard  in 
all  Naples  but  the  thunder  of  cannon, 
and  nothing  to  be  seen  but  velvet,  silk, 
and  brocade,  and  gold  on  all  sides. 
The  streets  were  lined  with  richly  tap¬ 
estried  seats,  filled  with  all  the  noble 
dames  of  Naples,  who,  as  the  royal 
cortege  passed,  rose,  and  advancing, 
kissed  the  hands  of  the  king,  “  et  lo 
signore  Pe  di  questo  si  pigliava  gran 
piacere.”  It  is  a  characteristic  incident 
of  the  times,  that  as  quick  as  the  cortege 
passed,  all  the  rich  and  costly  prepara¬ 
tions  for  its  passage  were,  as  Passeri  tells 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


55 


us,  scramb  led  for  and  made  booty  of 
by  the  populace. 

The  Duchessa  di  Franca  villa,  at 
least,  who  had  witnessed  the  melancholy 
departure  of  Frederick  from  her  own 
roof,  when  he  went  forth  a  wanderer 
from  his  lost  kingdom,  must  have  felt 
the  hollowness  and  little  worth  of  all 
this  noisy  demonstration,  if  none  other 
among  the  assembled  crowd  felt  it. 
And  it  may  easily  be  imagined  how  she 
moralized  the  scene  to  the  lovely  blonde 
girl  at  her  side,  now  at  sixteen,  in  the 
first  bloom  of  her  beauty,  as  they  re¬ 
turned,  tired  with  the  unwonted  fatigue 
of  their  gala  doings,  to  their  quiet  home 
in  Ischia. 

Here  is  a  specimen  from  the  pages  of 
the  gossiping  weaver,1  of  the  sort  of 
subjects  which  were  the  talk  of  the  day 
in  Naples  in  those  times. 

In  December,  1507,  a  certain  Span- 


1  Passeri,  p.  151. 


56 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


iard,  Pietro  de  Pace,  by  name,  a  hunch¬ 
back,  and  much  deformed,  but  who 
“  was  of  high  courage,  and  in  terrestrial 
matters  had  no  fear  of  spirits  or  of  ven¬ 
omous  animals,”  determined  to  explore 
the  caverns  of  Pozzuoli ;  and  discover¬ 
ed  in  them  several  bronze  statues  and 
medals,  and  antique  lamps.  He  found 
also  some  remains  of  leaden  pipes,  on 
one  ot  which  the  words  u  Imperator 
Caesar”  were  legible.  Moreover,  he 
saw  “  certain  lizards  as  large  as  vipers.” 
But  for  all  this,  Pietro  considered  his 
adventure  an  unsuccessful  one  ;  for 
he  had  hoped  to  find  hidden  treasure 
in  the  caverns. 

Then  there  was  barely  time  for  this 
nine  days’  wonder  to  run  out  its  natural 
span,  before  a  very  much  more  serious 
matter  was  occupying  every  mind,  and 
making  every  tongue  wag  in  Naples. 
On  the  night  preceding  Christmas  day, 
in  the  year  1507,  the  Convent  of  St. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


57 


Clare  was  discovered  to  be  on  tire.  The 
building  was  destroyed,  and  the  nuns, 
belonging  mostly  to  noble  Neapolitan 
families,  were  burnt  out  of  their  holy 
home  ; — distressing  enough  on  many 
accounts.  But  still  it  was  not  altogether 
the  misfortune  of  these  holy  ladies  that 
spread  consternation  throughout  the 
city.  It  was  the  practice,  it  seems,  for 
a  great  number  of  the  possessors  of 
valuables  of  all  sorts,  u  Baruni  od  altri,” 
as  Passeri  says,1  in  his  homely  Neapoli¬ 
tan  dialect,  to  provide  against  the  con¬ 
tinual  dangers  to  which  movable  prop¬ 
erty  was  exposed,  by  consigning  their 
goods  to  the  keeping  of  some  religious 
community.  And  the  nuns  of  St.  Clare, 
especially,  were  very  largely  employed 
in  this  way.  The  consequence  was, 
that  the  almost  incredibly  large  amount 
of  three  hundred  thousand  ducats  worth 
of  valuable  articles  of  all  sorts  was  de- 


1  Passeri,  p.  152. 


58 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


stroyed  in  this  disastrous  fire.  Taking 
into  consideration  the  difference  in  the 
value  of  money,  this  sum  must  he  cal¬ 
culated  to  represent  at  least  a  million 
and  a  half  sterling  of  our  money.  And 
it  is  necessary  to  bear  in  mind  how 
large  a  proportion  of  a  rich  man’s 
wealth  in  those  days  consisted  in  chat¬ 
tels  to  render  the  estimate  of  the  loss 
at  all  credible. 

The  prices,  however,  at  which  cer¬ 
tain  of  the  products  of  artistic  industry 
were  then  estimated,  were  such  as 
to  render  such  an  accumulation  of 
property  possible  enough.  For  in¬ 
stance,  among  the  valuables  recorded 
by  Passeri  as  belonging  to  Ferdinand 
of  Aragon  I,  were  three  pieces  of 
tapestry,  which  were  called  “  La  Pas- 
torella,”  and  were  considered  to  be 
worth  130,000  ducats. 

And  thus  the  years  rolled  on  • 
Naples  gradually  settling  down  into 


59 


Vittoria  C olonna . 

■■  ,  _____ _ _ _ _ _ 

tranquillity  under  the  Spanish  rule, 
administered  by  the  first  of  the  long 
list  of  viceroys,  the  “  Gran  Capitano,” 
Don  Consalvo  de  Corduba,  and  the 
star  of  the  Colonna  shining  more  stead¬ 
ily  than  ever  in  the  ascendant,  till  in 
the  year  1509,  the  nineteenth  of  Vit- 
toria’s  and  of  the  bridegroom's  age,  it 
was  determined  to  celebrate  the  long 
arranged  marriage. 

It  took  place  on  the  27th  of  Decem¬ 
ber  in  that  year  ;  and  Passeri  mentions,1 
that  Vittoria  came  to  Ischia  from  Ma¬ 
rino  on  the  occasion,  escorted  by  a 
large  company  of  Roman  nobles.  It 
appears,  therefore,  that  she  must  have 
quitted  Ischia  previously.  But  it  is 
probable  that  she  did  so  only  for  a 
short  visit  to  her  native  home,  before 
finally  settling  in  her  husband’s  country. 

The  marriage  festival  was  held  in 
Ischia,  with  all  the  pomp  then  usual 

1  Passeri,  p.  162. 


60 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


on  sucli  occasions  ;  and  that,  as  will  be 
seen  in  a  subsequent  page,  from  the 
accounts  preserved  by  Passeri  of  an¬ 
other  wedding,  at  which  Vittoria  was 
present,  was  a  serious  matter.  The 
only  particulars  recorded  for  us,  of  her 
own  marriage  ceremony,  consist  of  two 
lists  of  the  presents  reciprocally  made 
by  the  bride  and  bridegroom.  These 
have  been  printed  from  the  original 
documents  in  the  Colonna  archives,  by 
Signor  Visconti,  and  are  curious  illus¬ 
trations  of  the  habits  and  manners  of 
that  day. 

The  Marquis  acknowledges  to  have 
received,  says  the  document,  from  the 
Lord  Fabrizio  Colonna  and  the  Lady 
Vittoria : — 

1.  A  bed  of  French  fashion,  with 
the  curtains  and  all  the  hangings  of 
crimson  satin,  lined  witli  blue  taffetas 
with  large  fringes  of  gold  ;  with  three 
mattresses  and  a  counterpane  of  crim- 


61 


Vittor  ia  C olonna. 

son  satin  of  similar  workmanship  ;  and 
four  pillows  of  crimson  satin  garnished 
with  fringes  and  tassels  of  gold. 

2.  A  cloak  of  crimson  raised  brocade. 

3.  A  cloak  of  black  raised  brocade, 
and  white  silk. 

4.  A  cloak  of  purple  velvet  and  pur¬ 
ple  brocade. 

5.  A  cross  of  diamonds  and  a  hous¬ 
ing  for  a  mule  of  wrought  gold. 

The  other  document  sets  forth  the 
presents  offered  by  Pescara  to  his 
bride  : — 

1.  A  cross  of  diamonds  with  a  chain 
of  gold  of  the  value  of  1000  ducats. 

2.  A  ruby,  a  diamond,  and  an  emer¬ 
ald  set  in  gold*  of  the  value  of  400 
ducats. 

3.  A  “  desciorgh  ”  of  gold  (whatever 
that  may  be)  of  the  value  of  100  ducats. 

4.  Twelve  bracelets  of  gold,  of  the 
value  of  40  ducats. 

Then  follow  fifteen  articles  of  female 
6 


62 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


dress,  gowns,  petticoals,  mantles,  skirts, 
and  various  other  finery  with  strange 
names,  only  to  be  explained  by  the 
ghost  of  some  sixteenth  century  mil¬ 
liner,  and  altogether  ignored  by  Du- 
cange,  and  all  other  lexicographers. 
But  they  are  described  as  composed 
of  satin,  velvet,  brocade;  besides  crim¬ 
son  velvet  trimmed  with  gold  fringe, 
and  lined  with  ermine;  and  flesh-color¬ 
ed  silk  petticoats,  trimmed  with  black 
velvet.  The  favorite  color  appears 
to  be  decidedly  crimson. 

It  is  noticeable,  that  while  all  the 
more  valuable  presents  of  Pescara  to 
Vittoria  are  priced,  nothing  is  said  of 
the  value  of  her  gifts  to  the  bride¬ 
groom.  Are  we  to  see  in  this  an  indi¬ 
cation  of  a  greater  delicacy  of  feeling 
on  the  part  of  the  lady  ? 

So  the  priests  did  their  office — a  pan 
of  the  celebration,  which,  curiously 
enough,  we  learn  from  Passeri,  was 


Vittorio  C olonna.  <53 

often  in  those  days  at  Naples,  deferred, 
sometimes  for  years,  till  after  the  con¬ 
summation  of  the  marriage — the  Pan- 
tagruelian  feastings  were  got  through, 
the  guests  departed,  boat  load  after 
boat  load,  from  the  rocky  shore  of 
Ischia ;  and  the  little  island,  restored 
after  the  unusual  hubbub  to  its  wont¬ 
ed  quiet,  was  left  to  be  the  scene  of  as 
happy  a  honeymoon  as  the  most  ro¬ 
mantic  of  novel  readers  could  wish 
for  her  favorite  heroine. 


64 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Vittoria’s  Married  Life. — Pescara  goes  where  Glory  awaits 
Him. — The  Rout  of  Ravenna. — Pescara  iu  Prison  turns 
Penman. — His  “Dialogo  di  amore." — Yittoria’s  Poetical 
Epistle  to  her  Husband. — Vittoria  and  the  Marchese  del 
Yasto.— Three  Cart-loads  of  Ladies,  and  three  Mule-loads 
of  Sweetmeats. — Character  of  Pescara. — His  Cruelty. — 
Anecdote  in  Proof  of  it. 


The  two  years  which  followed,  Vittoria 
always  looked  back  on  as  the  only 
truly  happy  portion  of  her  life,  and 
many  are  the  passages  of  her  poems 
which  recall  their  tranquil  and  unbroken 
felicity,  a  sweet  dream,  from  which 
she  was  too  soon  to  be  awakened  to 
the  ordinary  vicissitudes  of  sixteenth 
century  life.  The  happiest  years  of 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


65 


individuals,  as  of  nations,  afford  least 
materials  for  history,  and  of  Vittoria’s 
two  years  of  honeymoon  in  Ischia,  the 
whole  record  is  'that  she  was  happy  ; 
and  she  wrote  no  poetry. 

Early  in  1512  came  the  waking  from 
this  pleasant  dream.  Pescara  was,  of 
course,  to  be  a  soldier.  In  his  position 
not  to  have  begun  to  fight,  as  soon  as 
his  beard  was  fairly  grown,  would  have 
been  little  short  of  infamy.  So  he  set 
forth  to  join  the  army  in  Lombardy,  in 
company  with  his  father-in-law,  Fa- 
brizio.  Of  course  there  was  an  army 
in  Lombardy,  where  towns  were  being 
besieged,  fields  laid  wraste,  and  glory  to 
be  had  for  the  winning.  There  always 
was,  in  those  good  old  times  of  course. 
French,  Swiss,  Spanish,  German,  Vene¬ 
tian,  Papal,  and  Milanese  troops  were 
fighting  each  other,  with  changes  of 
alliances  and  sides  almost  as  frerpient 
and  as  confusing  as  the  changing  of 
6* 


66 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


partners  in  a  cotillion.  It  is  trouble¬ 
some  and  not  of  much  consequence  to 
understand  who  were  just  then  friends 
and  who  foes,  and  what  were  the  exact 
objects  all  the  different  parties  had  in 
cutting  each  other’s  throats.  And  it 
will  be  quite  sufficient  to  say  that  the 
Duchy  of  Milan  was  at  that  moment 
the  chief  bone  of  contention, — that  the 
principal  pretenders  to  the  glory  of 
“  annexing  ”  it  were  the  King  of  France 
and  the  King  of  Spain,  who  was  now 
also  King  of  Kaples — that  the  Pope 
was  just  then  allied  with  Spain,  and 
the  Venetians  with  France,  and  that 
[taly  generally  was  preparing  for  the 
destiny  she  has  worked  out  for  herself, 
by  the  constant  endeavor  to  avail  her¬ 
self  of  the  destroying  presence  of  these 
foreign  troops,  and  tneir  rivalries,  for 
the  prosecution  of  her  internal  quarrels, 
and  the  attainment  of  equally  low  and 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


67 


yet  more  unjustifiable,  because  fratri¬ 
cidal  aims. 

Pescara,  as  a  Neapolitan  subject  of 
the  King  of  Spain,  joined  the  army  op¬ 
posed  to  the  French,  under  the  walls 
of  Kavenna.  Vittoria,  though  her  sub¬ 
sequent  writings  prove  how  much  the 
parting  cost  her,  showed  how  thor¬ 
oughly  she  was  a  soldier’s  daughter  and 
a  soldier’s  wife.  There  had  been  some 
suggestion,  it  seems,  that  the  marquis, 
as  the  sole  surviving  scion  of  an  ancient 
and  noble  name,  might  fairly  consider 
it  his  duty  not  to  subject  it  to  the  risk 
of  extinction  by  exposing  his  life  in  the 
field.  The  young  soldier,  however, 
wholly  refused  to  listen  to  such  coun¬ 
sels  ;  and  his  wife  strongly  supported 
his  view  of  the  course  honor  counselled 
him  to  follow,  by  advice,  which  a 
young  and  beautiful  wife,  who  was  to 
remain  surrounded  by  a  brilliant  circle 
of  wits  and  poets,  would  scarcely  have 


68 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


ventured  on  offering,  had  she  not  felt 
a  perfect  security  from  all  danger  of 
being  misinterpreted,  equally  creditable 
to  wife  and  husband. 

So  the  young  soldier  took  for  a  motto 
on  his  shield,  the  well-known  “With 
this,  or  on  this  ;  ”  and  having  expended, 
we  are  told,  much  care  and  cash  on  a 
magnificent  equipment,  was  at  once 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  light 
cavalry.  The  knowledge  and  experi¬ 
ence  necessary  for  such  a  position  comes 
by  nature,  it  must  be  supposed,  to  the 
descendant  of  a  long  line  of  noble 
knights,  as  surely  as  pointing  does  to 
the  scion  of  a  race  of  pointers.  But  the 
young  warrior’s  episcopal1  biographer 
cursorily  mentions,  that  certain  old  and 
trusty  veterans,  who  had  obtained  their 
military  science  by  experience,  and  not 
by  right  of  birth,  wTere  attached  to  his 
person. 

1  Giovio,  Bp.  of  Como,  Life  of  Pescara,  book  i. 


Vittor  i a  C olonn  a . 


69 


The  general  of  light  cavalry  arrived 
at  the  camp  at  an  unfortunate  moment. 
The  total  defeat  of  the  United  Spanish 
and  Papal  army  by  the  French  before 
Ravenna  on  the  9th  of  April,  1512,  im¬ 
mediately  followed.  Fabrizio  Colonna 
and  his  son-in-law  were  both  made 
prisoners.  The  latter  had  been  left  for 
dead  on  the  field,  covered  with  wounds, 
which  subsequently  gave  occasion  to 
Isabella  of  Aragon,  Duchess  of  Milan, 
to  say,  u  I  would  fain  be  a  man,  Signor 
Marchese,  if  it  were  only  to  receive 
such  wounds  as  yours  in  the  face,  that 
I  might  see  if  they  would  become  me 
as  they  do  you.”  1 

Pescara,  when  packed  up  from  the 
field,  was  carried  a  prisoner  to  Milan, 
where,  by  means  of  the  good  offices  and 
powerful  influence  of  Trivulzio,  who 
had  married  Beatrice  d’ Avalos,  Pee- 

*  Filocalo,  MS.  Life  of  Pescara,  cited  by  ViscDiiti,  j 
Ixxxii. 


70 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


cara’s  aunt,  and  was  now  a  general  in 
the  service  of  France,  his  detention  was 
rendered  as  little  disagreeable  as  pos¬ 
sible,  and  he  was,  as  soon  as  his  wounds 
were  healed,  permitted  to  ransom  him¬ 
self  for  six  thousand  ducats.1 

During  his  short  confinement  he 
amused  his  leisure  by  composing  a 
“  Dialogo  d’Amore,”  which  he  inscrib¬ 
ed  and  sent  to  his  wife.  The  Bishop  of 
Como,  his  biographer,  testifies  that  this 
work  was  exceedingly  pleasant  reading 
— “  summse  jucunditatis  ” — and  full  of 
grave  and  witty  conceits  and  thoughts. 
The  world,  however,  has  seen  fit  to  al¬ 
low  this  treasury  of  wit  to  perish,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  episcopal  criticism. 
And  in  all  probability  the  world  was  in 
the  right.  If,  indeed,  the  literary  gen¬ 
eral  of  light  horse  had  written  his  own 
real  thoughts  and  speculations  on  love, 
there  might  have  been  some  interest  in 


1  Giovio,  lib.  i. 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


71 


seeing  a  sixteenth  century  soldier’s 
views  on  that  ever  interesting  subject. 
But  we  may  be  quite  certain,  that  the 
Dialogo,  “  stuffed  full,”  as  Giovio  says, 
“  of  grave  sentiments  and  exquisite  con¬ 
ceits,”  contained  only  a  reproduction 
of  the  classic  banalities,  and  ingenious 
absurdities,  which  were  current  in  the 
fashionable  literature  of  the  day.  Yet 
it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  employ¬ 
ment  of  his  leisure  in  any  such  manner, 
and  still  more,  the  dedication  of  his 
labors  on  such  a  subject  to  his  wife,  are 
indications  of  an  amount  of  cultivation 
and  right  feeling,  which  would  hardly 
have  been  found,  either  one  or  the 
other,  among  many  of  the  preux  che¬ 
valiers,  his  brothers- in-arms. 

Meanwhile,  Yittoria,  on  her  part, 
wrote  a  poetical  epistle  to  her  husband 
in  prison,  which  is  the  first  production 
of  her  pen  that  has  reached  us.  It  is 
written  in  Dante’s  “  terza  rima,”  and 


72 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


consisted  of  112  lines.  Both  Italian 
and  French  critics  have  expressed 
highly  favorable  judgments  of  this  little 
poem.  And  it  may  be  admitted  that 
the  lines  are  elegant,  classical,  well- 
turned,  and  ingenious.  But  those  who 
seek  something  more  than  all  this  in 
poetry — who  look  for  passion,  high  and 
noble  thoughts,  happy  illustration  or 
deep  analysis  of  human  feeling,  will 
find  nothing  of  the  sort.  That  Yittoria 
did  feel  acutely  her  husband’s  misfor¬ 
tune,  and  bitterly  regret  his  absence 
from  her,  there  is  every  reason  to  be¬ 
lieve.  But  she  is  unable  to  express 
these  sentiments  naturally  or  forcibly. 
She,  in  all  probability,  made  no  attempt 
to  do  so,  judging  from  the  models  on 
which  she  had  been  taught  to  form  her 
style,  that  when  she  sat  down  to  make 
poetry,  the  aim  to  be  kept  in  view  was 
a  very  different  one.  Hence  we  have 
talk  of  Hector  and  Achilles,  Eolus, 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


73 


Sirens,  and  marine  deities,  Pompey, 
Cornelia,  Cato,  Martia,  and  Mithridates 
— a  parade  of  all  the  treasures  of  the 
schoolroom.  The  pangs  of  the  wife  left 
lonely  in  her  home  are  in  neatly  anti¬ 
thetical  phrase  contrasted  with  the 
dangers  and  toils  of  the  husband  in  the 
field.  Then  we  have  a  punning  allu¬ 
sion  in  her  own  name  : — 


“  Se  Vittoria  volevi,  io  t’  era  appresso  ; 
Ma  tu,  lasciando  me,  lasciasti  lei.” 


“  If  victory  was  thy  desire,  I  was  by 
thy  side ;  but  in  leaving  me,  thou  didst 
leave  also  her.’5 

The  best,  because  the  simplest  and 
most  natural  lines,  are  the  following  : — 

“  Seguir  si  deve  il  sposo  e  dentro  e  fora ; 

E,  s’  egli  pate  affanno,  ella  patisca; 

Se  lieto,  lieta ;  e  se  vi  more,  mora. 

A  quel  che  arrisca  I’un,  1’  altro  s’  arrisca; 

Eguali  in  vita,  eguali  siano  in  morte ; 

E  cio  che  avviene  a  lui,  a  lei  sortisca.” 

7 


74 


Yittoria  Colonna. 


“  At  home  or  abroad  the  wife  should 
follow  her  husband  ;  and  if  he  suffers 
distress,  she  should  suffer  ;  should  be 
joyful  if  he  is  joyful,  and  should  die  if 
he  dies.  The  danger  confronted  by  the 
one  should  he  confronted  by  the  other ; 
equals  in  life,  they  should  be  equal  in 
death  ;  and  that  which  happens  to  him 
should  be  her  lot  also,” — a  mere  farrago 
of  rhetorical  prettinesses,  as  cold  as  a 
school-boy’s  prize  verses,  and  unani¬ 
mated  by  a  spark  of  genuine  feeling  ; 
although  the  writer  was  as  truly  affec¬ 
tionate  a  wife  as  ever  man  had. 

But,  although  all  that  Yittoria  wrote, 
and  all  that  the  vast  number  of  the  po¬ 
ets  and  poetesses,  her  contemporaries, 
wrote,  was  obnoxious  to  the  same  re¬ 
marks  ;  still  it  will  be  seen,  that  in  the 
maturity  of  her  powers  she  could  do 
better  than  this.  Her  religious  poetry 
may  be  said,  generally,  to  be  much  su¬ 
perior  to  her  love  verses;  either  be- 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


15 


cause  they  were  composed  when  her 
mind  had  grown  to  its  full  stature,  or, 
as  seems  probable,  because,  model  wife 
as  she  was,  the  subject  took  a  deeper 
hold  of  her  mind,  and  stirred  the  depths 
of  her  heart  more  powerfully. 

Very  shortly  after  the  despatch  of 
her  poetical  epistle,  Vittoria  was  over¬ 
joyed  by  the  unexpected  return  of  her 
husband.  And  again  for  a  brief  inter¬ 
val  she  considered  herself  the  happiest 
of  women. 

One  circumstance  indeed  there  was 
to  mar  the  entirety  of  her  contentment. 
She  was  still  childless.  And  it  seems, 
that  the  science  of  that  day,  ignorantly 
dogmatical,  undertook  to  assert,  that 
she  would  continue  to  be  so.  Both 
husband  and  wife  seemed  to  have  sub¬ 
mitted  to  the  award  undoubtingly  ;  and 
the  dictum,  however  rashly  uttered,  was 
justified  by  the  event. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Yittoria 


76 


V ittoria  C olonna. 


undertook  the -education  of  Alphonso 
d’Avalos,  Marcliese  del  Vasto,  a  young 
cousin  of  her  husband’s.  The  task  was 
a  sufficiently  arduous  one  for  the  hoy, 
beautiful,  it  is  recorded,  as  an  angel, 
and  endowed  with  excellent  capabili¬ 
ties  of  all  sorts,  was  so  wholly  unbroken, 
and  ot  so  violent  and  ungovernable  a 
disposition,  ’that  he  had  been  the  de¬ 
spair  and  terror  of  all  who  had  hitherto 
attempted  to  educate  him.  Yittoria 
thought  that  she  saw  in  the  wild  and 
passionate  boy  the  materials  of  a  worthy 
man.  The  event  fully  justified  her 
judgment,  and  proved  the  really  supe¬ 
rior  powers  of  mind  she  must  have 
brought  to  the  accomplishment  of  it. 
Alphonso  became  a  soldier  of  renown, 
not  untinctured  by  those  literary  tastes 
which  so  remarkably  distinguished  his 
gentle  preceptress.  A  strong  and  last¬ 
ing  affection  grew  between  them  ;  and 


1  Visconti,  p.  77. 


Vittoria  C olonna.  77 

Vittoria,  proud  with  good  reason  of  her 
work,  was  often  wont  to  say,  that  the 
reproach  of  being  childless  ought  not 
to  be  deemed  applicable  to  her  whose 
moral  nature  might  well  be  said  to 
have  brought  forth  that  of  her  pupil. 

Pescara’s  visit  to  Naples  was  a  very 
short  one.  Early  in  1513,  we  tind  him 
again  with  the  armies  in  Lombardy, 
taking  part  in  most  of  the  mischief  and 
glory  going. 

Under  the  date  of  July  the  4th  in 
that  year,  the  gossiping  Naples  weaver 
who  rarely  fails  to  note  the  doings  ot 
the  Neapolitan  General  of  light  horse 
with  infinite  pride  and  admiration,  has 
preserved  for  us  a  rather  picturesque 
little  bit  of  Ariosto-flavored  camp  life. 
The  Spanish  army,  under  Don  Ray¬ 
mond  di  Cardona,  who,  on  Consalvo’s 
death  had  succeeded  him  as  Viceroy 
of  Naples,  was  on  its  march  from  Pes- 
chiera  to  Verona,  when  a  messenger 
7* 


78 


'Vittoria  C olonna. 


from  the  beautiful  young  Marchioness 
of  Mantua  came  to  the  General-in-chief 
to  say  that  she  wished  to  see  those  cele¬ 
brated  Spanish  troops,  who  were  march¬ 
ing  under  his  banners,  and  was  then 
waiting  their  passage  in  the  vineyards 
of  the  Castle  of  Villafranca.  “  A  cer¬ 
tain  gentle  lady  of  Mantua,  named  the 
Signora  Laura,  with  whom  Don  Ray¬ 
mond  was  in  love,”  writes  the  weaver, 
was  with  the  Marchioness  ;  and  much 
pleased  was  he  at  the  message.  So 
word  was  passed  to  the  various  cap¬ 
tains  ;  and  when  the  column  reached 
the  spot,  where  the  Marchioness  with 
a  great  number  of  ladies  and  cavaliers 
of  Mantua  were  reposing  in  the  shade 
of  the  vines,  “Don  Ferrante  d’Alar- 
cone,  as  Chief  Marshal,  with  his  baton 
in  his  hand,  made  all  the  troops  halt, 
and  placed  themselves  in  order  of  bat¬ 
tle  ;  and  the  Signor  Marchese  di  Pes¬ 
cara  marched  at  the  head  of  the  infan- 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


19 


try,  with  a  pair  of  breeches  cut  after 
the  Swiss  fashion,  and  a  plume  on  his 
head,  and  a  two-handed  sword  in  his 
hand,  and  all  the  standards  were  un¬ 
furled.”  And  when  the  Marchioness 
from  among  the  vines  looking  down 
through  the  chequered  shade  on  to  the 
road  saw  that  all  was  in  order,  she  and 
her  ladies  got  into  three  carts,  so  that 
there  came  out  of  the  vineyard,  says 
Passeri,  three  cartsful  of  ladies  sur¬ 
rounded  by  the  cavaliers  of  Mantua  on 
horseback.  There  they  came  very 
slowly  jolting  over  the  cultivated 
ground,  those  three  heavy  bullock  carts, 
with  their  primitive  wheels  of  one  solid 
circular  piece  of  wood,  and  their  huge 
cream-colored  oxen  with  enormous  horn¬ 
ed  heads  gaily  decorated,  as  Leopold 
Robert  shows  them  to  us,  and  the  bril¬ 
liant  tinted  dresses  of  the  laughingbevy 
drawn  by  them,  glancing  gaudily  in  the 
sun -light  among  the  soberer  coloring  of 


80 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


the  vineyards  in  their  summer  pride  of 
green.  Then  Don  Raymond  and  Pes¬ 
cara  advanced  to  the  carts,  and  handed 
from  them  the  Marchioness  and  Donna 
Laura,  who  mounted  on  handsomely 
equipped  jennets  prepared  for  them.  It 
does  not  appear  that  this  attention  was 
extended  to  any  of  the  other  ladies,  who 
must  therefore  be  supposed  to  have  re¬ 
mained  sitting  in  the  carts,  while  the 
Marchioness  and  the  favored  Donna 
Laura  rode  through  the  ranks  “  con 
multa  festa  et  gloria.”  And  when  she 
had  seen  all,  with  much  pleasure  and 
admiration,  on  a  given  signal  three 
mules  loaded  with  sweetmeats  were  led 
forward,  with  which  the  gay  Marchion¬ 
ess  “  regaled  all  the  captains.”  Then 
all  the  company  with  much  content, 
— excepting,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  sol¬ 
diers,  who  had  to  stand  at  arms  under 
the  July  sun,  while  their  officers  were 
eating  sugar-plums,  and  Don  Raymond 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


81 


and  Donna  Laura  were  saying  and  swal¬ 
lowing  sweet  tilings,— took  leave  of  each 
other,  the  army  pursuing  its  march  to¬ 
wards  Yerona,  and  the  Marc! lioness  and 
her  ladies  returning  in  their  carts  to 
Mantua.1 

The  other  scattered  notices  of  Pes¬ 
cara’s  doings  during  his  campaign  are 
of  a  less  festive  character.  They  show 
him  to  have  been  a  hard  and  cruel 
man,  reckless  of  human  suffering,  and 
eminent  even  among  his  fellow  captains 
for  the  ferocity,  and  often  wanton  ness  of 
the  ravages  and  wide-spreaff  misery  he 
wrought.  On  more  than  one  occasion, 
Passeri  winds  up  his  narrative  of  some 
destruction  of  a  town,  or  desolation  of 
a  fertile  and  cultivated  district,  by  the 
remark,  that  the  cruelty  committed  was 
worse  than  Turks  would  have  been 
guilty  of.  Yet  this  same  Passeri,  an 
artisan,  belonging  to  a  class  which  had 


1  Passeri,  p.  197. 


82 


'Vittoria  C olonna. 


all  to  suffer  and  nothing  to  gain  from 
such  atrocities,  writes,  when  chronicling 
this  same  Pescara’s1  death,  that  “  on  that 
day  died,  I  would  have  you  know, 
gentle  readers,  the  most  glorious  and 
honored  captain  that  the  world  has 
seen  for  the  last  hundred  years.”  It  is 
curious  to  observe  how  wholly  the 
popular  mind  was  enslaved  to  the  pre¬ 
judices  and  conventional  absurdities  of 
the  ruling  classes ;  how  entirely  the 
feelings  of  the  masses  were  in  unison 
with  those  of  the  caste  which  oppressed 
them ;  how  little  reason  they  conceiv¬ 
ed  they  had  to  complain  under  the 
most  intolerable  treatment,  and  how 
little  hope  of  progressive  amelioration 
there  was  from  the  action  of  native- 
bred  public  opinion. 

Bishop  Giovio,  the.  biographer  and 
panegyrist  of  Pescara  admits,  that  he 
was  a  stern  and  cruelly -severe  disci - 


1  Passeri,  p.  326. 


Vittoria  Color  na. 


83 


plinarian  ;  and  mentions  an  anecdote  in 
proof  of  it.  *  A  soldier  was  brought  be¬ 
fore  him  for  having  entered  a  house  en 
route  for  the  purpose  of  plundering. 
The  General  ordered  that  his  ears  should 
be  cut  off.  The  culprit  remonstrated  ; 
and  begged,  with  many  entreaties,  to 
be  spared  so  dishonoring  and  ignomin¬ 
ious  a  punishment,  saying  in  his  distress 
that  death  itself  would  have  been  more 
tolerable. 

“  The  grace  demanded  is  granted,” 
rejoined  Pescara  instantly,  with  grim 
pleasantry.  “  Take  this  soldier,  who  is 
so  careful  of  his  honor,  and  hang  him  to 
that  tree  !  ” 

In  vain  did  the  wretch  beg  not  to  be 
taken  at  his  word  so  cruelly,  no  en¬ 
treaties  sufficed  to  change  the  savage 
decree. 

It  will  be  well  that  we  should  bear 
m  mind  these  indications  of  the  essen¬ 
tial  nature  of  this  great  and  glorious 


84 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


captain,  who  had  studied  those  ingen¬ 
uous  arts  which  soften  the  character, 
and  do  not  suffer  men  to  be  ferocious, 
as  the  poet  assures  us,  and  who  could 
write  dialogues  on  love,  when  we  come 
to  consider  the  curious  phenomenon  of 
Vittoria’s  unmeasured  love  for  her  hus¬ 
band. 


'Vittoria  Colonna. 


85 


CHAPTER  IY. 


Society  in  Ischia. — Bernardo  Tasso’s  sonnet  thereon. — How 
a  wedding  was  celebrated  in  Naples  in  1517. — A  Sixteenth 
Century  trousseau. — Sack  of  Genoa. — The  Battle  of 
Pavia. — Italian  conspiracy  against  Charles  V.—  Character 
of  Pescara. — Honor  in  1525. — Pescara’s  treason.—  Vittoria’s 
sentiments  on  the  occasion. — Pescara’s  infamy. — Patriot¬ 
ism  unknown  in  Italy  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. — No 
such  sentiment  to  be  found  in  the  writings  of  Yittoria. — 
Evil  influence  of  her  husband’s  character  on  her  mind. — 
Death  of  Pescara. 

Meanwhile,  Yittoria  continued  her 
peaceful  and  quiet  life  in  Ischia,  lonely 
indeed,  as  far  as  the  dearest  affections 
of  her  heart  was  concerned,  but  cheer¬ 
ed  and  improved  by  the  society  of  that 
select  knot  of  poets  and  men  of  learn - 
8 


I  88 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


ing,  whom  Costanza  di  Francavilla,  not 
unassisted  by  the  presence  of  Vittoria, 
attracted  to  her  little  island  court.  We 
find  Musefilo,  Filocalo,  Giovio,  Min- 
tnrno,  Cariteo,  Bota,  Sanazzaro,  and 
Bernardo  Tasso,  among  those  who  help¬ 
ed  to  make  this  remote  rock  celebrated 
throughout  Europe  at  that  day,  as  one 
of  the  best  loved  haunts  of  Apollo  and 
the  Muses, — to  speak  in  the  phrase¬ 
ology  of  the  time. 

Many  among  them  have  left  pas¬ 
sages  recording  the  happy  days  spent 
on  that  fortunate  island.  The  social 
circle  was  doubtless  a  charming  and 
brilliant  one,  and  the  more  so,  as  con¬ 
trasted  with  the  general  tone  and  habits 
of  the  society  of  the  period.  But  the 
style  of  the  following  sonnet  by  Ber¬ 
nardo  Tasso,  selected  by  Visconti  as  a 
specimen  of  the  various  effusions  by 
members  of  the  select  circle  upon  the 
subject,  while  it  accurately  illustrates 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


87 


the  prevailing  modes  of  thought  and 
diction  of  that  period,  will  hardly  fail 
to  suggest  the  idea  of  a  comparison — 
mutatis  mutandis — between  this  com¬ 
pany  of  sixteenth  century  choice  spirits, 
and  that  which  assembled,  and  pro¬ 
voked  so  severe  a  lashing  in  the  mem¬ 
orable  Hotel  de  Rambouillet,  more  than 
an  hundred  years  afterwards.  But  an 
Italian  Moliere  is  as  wholly  impossible 
in  the  nature  of  things,  as  a  French 
Dante.  And  the  sixteenth  century 
swarm  of  Petrarchists  and  Classicists 
have,  unlike  true  prophets,  found 
honor  in  their  own  country. 

Gentle  Bernardo  celebrates  in  this 
wise  these  famed  Ischia  meetings 


“  Superbo  scoglio,  altero  e  bel  ricetto 
Di  tanti  chiari  eroi,  d’imperadori, 

Onde  raggi  di  gloria  escono  fuori, 

Ch’  ogni  altro  lume  fan  scuro  e  negletto ; 
Se  per  vera  virtute  al  ben  perfetto 
Salir  si  puote  ed  agli  eterni  onori, 

Queste  piu  d’  altre  degne  alme  e  migliori 


88 


Vittor  ia  C olonna. 


Y’  andran,  che  chiudi  nel  petroso  petto. 

II  lume  e  in  te  dell’  armi ;  in  te  s’asconde 
Casta  belta,  valore  e  cortesia, 

Quanta  mai  vide  il  tempo,  o  diede  il  cielo. 

Ti  sian  secondi  i  fati,  e  il  vento  e  1’  onde 
Rendanti  onore,  e  1’  aria  tua  natia 
Abbia  sempre  temprato  il  caldo  e  il  gelo  1  ” 

Which  may  he  thus  u  done  into  Eng¬ 
lish,”  for  the  sake  of  giving  those  un¬ 
acquainted  with  the  language  of  the 
original,  some  tolerably  accurate  idea 
of  Messer  Bernardo’s  euphuisms. 

“  Proud  rock !  the  loved  retreat  of  such  a  band 

Of  earth’s  best,  noblest,  greatest,  that  their  light 
Pales  other  glories  to  the  dazzled  sight, 

And  like  a  beacon  shines  throughout  the  land, 

If  truest  worth  can  reach  the  perfect  state, 

And  man  may  hope  to  merit  heavenly  rest, 

Those  whom  thou  harborest  in  thy  rocky  breast, 
First  in  the  race  will  reach  the  heavenly  gate. 

Glory  of  martial  deeds  is  thine.  In  thee, 

Brightest  the  world  e’er  saw,  or  heaven  gave, 
Dwell  chastest  beauty,  worth,  and  courtesy  ! 

Well  be  it  with  thee !  May  both  wind  and  sea 
Respect  thee  :  and  thy  native  air  and  wave 
Be  temper’d  ever  by  a  genial  sky !  ” 

Such  is  the  poetry  of  one  of  the 


Vittorio,  0 olonna. 


89 


brightest  stars  of  the  Ischian  galaxy  ; 
and  the  incredulous  reader  is  assured 
that  it  would  be  easy  to  find  much 
worse  sonnets  b}T  the  ream,  among  the 
extant  productions  of  the  crowd,  who 
were  afflicted  with  the  prevalent  Pe¬ 
trarch  mania  of  that  epoch.  The  statis¬ 
tical  returns  of  the  ravages  of  this 
malady,  given  by  the  poetical  registrar- 
general  Crescimbeni,  would  astonish 
even  Paternoster  Pow  at  the  present 
day.  But  Vittoria  Colonna,  though  a 
great  number  of  her  sonnets  do  not  rise 
above  the  level  of  Bernardo  Tasso  in 
the  foregoing  specimen,  could  occasion¬ 
ally,  especially  in  her  later  years,  reach 
a  much  higher  tone,  as  will,  it  is  hoped, 
be  shown  in  a  future  chapter. 

It  has  been  suggested,  that  the  re¬ 
ligious  feelings  which  inspired  her  lat¬ 
ter  poetry,  were,  though  not  more 
genuine,  yet  more  absorbing  than  the 
conjugal  love,  which  is  almost  exclu 
8* 


90 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


sively  the  theme  of  her  earlier  efforts. 
And  it  is  at  all  events  certain,  that  the 
former  so  engrossed  her  whole  mind, 
as  to  sever  her  in  a  great  measure  from 
the  world.  This  the  so  fervently  sung 
pangs  of  separation  from  her  husband 
do  not  appear  to  have  effected. 

Besides  the  constant  society  of  the 
select  few,  of  whom  mention  has  been 
made,  there  were  occasionally  gayer 
doings  in  Ischia  ;  as  when  in  February, 
1517,  a  brilliant  festival  wTas  held  there 
on  occasion  of  the  marriage1  of  Don 
Alfonso  Piccoloinini  with  Costanza 
d’ Avalos,  the  sister  of  Vittoria’s  pupil, 
the  Marchese  del  Vasto.  And  occa¬ 
sionally  the  gentle  poetess,  necessitated 
probably  by  the  exigencies  of  her  social 
position,  would  leave  her  beloved 
Ischia  for  brilliant  and  noisy  Naples. 
And  when  these  necessities  did  occur, 
it  is  recorded,  that  the  magnificence 


1  Passeri,  p.  234. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


91 


and  pomp,  with  which  the  beautiful 
young  wife  made  her  appearance 
among  her  fellow  nobles,  was  such,  as 
few  of  them  could  equal,  and  none  sur¬ 
pass. 

One  of  these  occasions  is  worth 
specially  noting,  for  the  sake  of  the  de¬ 
tailed  account,  which  has  been  preserv¬ 
ed  of  it  by  that  humble  and  observant 
chronicler,  our  friend  the  weaver.  For 
it  contains  traits  and  indications,  curi¬ 
ously  and  amusingly  illustrative  of  the 
life  and  manners  of  that  time  in  Naples. 

It  was  December  6,  1517,  and  high 
festival  was  to  be  held  for  the  marriage 
of  the  King  of  Poland  with  Donna 
Bona  Sforza.  The  guests  comprised 
the  whole  nobility  of  Naples;  and 
worthy  Passeri  begins  his  account  with 
an  accurate  Morning-Post-like  state¬ 
ment  of  the  costume  of  each  in  the 
order  of  their  arrival  at  the  church. 
Doubtless  the  eager  weaver,  a  shrewd 


92 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


judge  of  such  matters,  had  pushed  him¬ 
self  into  a  good  place  iu  the  front  row 
of  the  crowd,  who  lined  the  roadway 
of  the  noble  guests,  and  might  have 
been  seen  with  tablets  in  hand,  taking 
notes  with  busy  excitement  to  be  trans¬ 
ferred  to  his  journal  at  night.  One 
after  another  the  high-sounding  titles, 
very  many  of  them  Spanish,  are  set 
forth,  as  they  swept  by,  brilliant  with 
gold  and  every  brightest  tint  of  costly 
fabric,  and  are  swallowed  up  by  the 
dark  nave  of  the  huge  church. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  attempt  a  trans¬ 
lation  of  all  the  changes  Master  Passeri 
rings  on  velvet,  satin,  gold,  brocade, 
and  costly  furs.  Merely  noting  that 
the  bride’s  dress  is  estimated  to  be 
worth  seven  thousand  ducats,  we  let 
them  all  pass  on  till  “The  illustrious 
lady  the  Signora  Vittoria,  Marchioness 
of  Pescara,”  arrives.  She  is  mounted 
on  a  black  and  white  jennet,  with  lions- 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


93 


ings  of  crimson  velvet,  fringed  with 
gold.  She  is  accompanied  by  six  ladies 
in  waiting,  uniformly  clad  in  azure 
damask,  and  attended  by  six  grooms  on 
foot,  with  cloaks  and  jerkins  of  blue 
and  yellow  satin.  The  lady  herself 
wears  a  robe  of  brocaded  crimson  vel¬ 
vet,  with  large  brandies  of  beaten  gold 
on  it.  She  lias  a  crimson  satin  cap, 
with  a  head-dress  of  wrought  gold 
above  it ;  and  around  her  waist  is  a 
girdle  of  beaten  gold. 

Some  of  the  assembled  company,  one 
might  think,  would  require  their  gir¬ 
dles  to  be  of  some  more  yielding  mate¬ 
rial.  For,  on  quitting  the  church,  they 
sat  down  to  table  at  six  in  the  evening, 
“  and  began  to  eat,”  says  Passeri,  “  and 
left  off  at  live  in  the  morning!  ”  The 
order  and  materials  of  this  more  than 
Homeric  feast,  are  handed  down  to 
posterity  with  scrupulous  accuracy  by 
our  chronicler.  But  the  stupendous 


94 


Vittoria  Colontia. 


menu,  in  its  entirety,  would  be  almost 
as  intolerable  to  the  reader,  as  having 
to  sit  out  the  eleven  hours’  orgy  in  per¬ 
son.  A  few  particulars  culled  here 
and  there,  partly  because  they  are 
curious,  and  partly  because  the  mean¬ 
ing  of  the  words  is  more  intelligible 
than  is  the  case  in  many  instances, 
even  to  a  Neapolitan  of  the  present 
day,  will  amply  suffice. 

There  were  twenty-seven  courses. 
Then  the  quantity  of  sugar  used,  was 
made,  as  we  have  noticed  on  a  former 
occasion  at  Rome,  a  special  subject 
of  glorification.  There  was  “puttagio 
rJngarese,”  Hungary  soup,  stuffed  pea¬ 
cocks,  quince  pies,  and  thrushes  served 
with  bergamottes,  which  were  not 
pears,  as  an  English  reader  might  per¬ 
haps  suppose,  but  small  highly  scented 
citrons,  of  the  kind,  from  which  the 
perfume  of  that  name  is,  or  is  suppos¬ 
ed,  to  be  made.  With  the  “  bianco 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


95 


mangiare,”  our  familiarity  with  “  blanc¬ 
mange,”  seems  at  first  sight  to  make 
us  more  at  home.  But  we  are  thrown 
out  by  finding,  that  it  was  eaten  in 
1517,  “  con  mostarda.”  The  dishes  of 
pastry  seem  according  to  our  habits, 
much  out  of  proportion  to  the  rest. 
Sweet  preparations  also,  whether  of 
animal  or  vegetable  composition,  seem 
greatly  to  preponderate.  At  the 
queen’s  own  table,  a  fountain  gave 
forth  odoriferous  waters.  But,  to  all 
the  guests,  perfumed  water  for  the 
hands  was  served  at  the  removal  of  the 
first  tables. 

“And  thus  having  passed  this  first 
day  with  infinite  delight, ’’the  whole 
party  passed  a  second,  and  a  third,  in 
the  same  manner  ! 

That  eleven  hours  should  have  been 
spent  in  eating  and  drinking  is  of  course 
simply  impossible.  Large  interludes 
must  be  supposed  to  have  been  occupied 


96 


Vittoria  Colonna . 


by  music,  and  very  likely  by  recita¬ 
tions  of  poetry.  On  the  first  day  a 
considerable  time  must  have  been 
taken  up  by  a  part  of  the  ceremonial, 
which  was  doubtless  far  more  interest¬ 
ing  to  the  fairer  half  of  the  assembly 
than  the  endless  gormandising.  This 
was  a  display,  article  by  article,  of  the 
bride’s  trousseau,  which  took  place 
while  the  guests  were  still  sitting  at 
table.  Passeri  minutely  catalogues  the 
whole  exhibition.  The  list  begins  with 
twenty  pairs  of  sheets,  all  embroidered 
with  different  colored  silks  ;  and  seven 
pairs  of  sheets,  “  d’olanda,”  of  Dutch 
linen,  fringed  with  gold.  Then  come 
an  hundred  and  five  shirts  of  Dutch 
linen,  all  embroidered  with  silk  of  di¬ 
vers  colors ;  and  seventeen  shirts  of 
cambric,  “  cambraia,”  with  a  selvage  of 
gold,  as  a  present  for  the  royal  bride¬ 
groom.  There  were  twelve  head-dress¬ 
es,  and  six  ditto,  ornamented  with  gold 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


97 


and  colored  silk,  for  his  majesty  ;  an 
hundred  and  twenty  handkerchiefs, 
embroidered  with  gold  cord  ;  ninety- 
six  caps,  ornamented  with  gold  and 
silk,  of  which  thirty-six  were  for  the 
king.  There  were  eighteen  counter¬ 
panes  of  silk,  one  of  which  was 
wrought  “  alia  inoresca  ;  ”  forty-eight 
sets  of  stamped  leather  hangings,  thirty- 
six  others  “  of  the  ostrich  egg  pattern,” 
sixteen  “  of  the  artichoke  pattern,”  and 
thirty-six  of  silk  tapestry.  Beside  all 
these  hundred  sets,  there  were  eight 
large  pieces  of  Flanders  arras,  “  con  seta 
assai.”  They  represented  the  seven 
works  of  mercy,  and  were  valued  at  a 
thousand  golden  ducats.  There  wras  a 
litter,  carved  and  gilt,  with  its  four 
mattrasses  of  blue  embroidered  satin. 
Passing  on  to  the  plate  department, 
we  have  a  silver  wTaiter,  two  large 
pitchers  wrouglft  in  relief,  three  basins, 
an  ewer,  and  six  large  cups,  twelve 


98 


I Tittoria  Colonna. 


large  plates,  twelve  ditto  of  second  size, 
and  twenty-four  soup  plates  made 
“  alia  franzese,”  a  massive  salt-cellar,  a 
box  of  napkins,  spoons,  and  jugs,  four 
large  candlesticks,  two  large  flasks,  a 
silver  pail,  and  cup  of  gold  worth  two 
hundred  ducats  for  the  king’s  use. 
Then  for  the  chapel,  a  furniture  for  the 
altar,  with  the  history  of  the  three  kings 
embroidered  in  gold  on  black  velvet ; 
a  missal  on  parchment,  with  illuminated 
miniatures,  bound  in  velvet  ornament¬ 
ed  with  silver  clasps  and  bosses  ;  and 
a  complete  set  of  requisites  for  the  ser¬ 
vice  in  silver.  Then,  returning  to  the 
personal  department,  came  twenty-one 
gowns,  each  minutely  described,  and 
one  of  blue  satin  spangled  with  bees  in 
solid  gold,  particularly  specified  as  be¬ 
ing  worth  four  thousand  ducats. 

When  all  this  and  much  more  had 
been  duly  admired,  tlieje  were  brought 
forward  an  empty  casket  and  fifteen 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


99 


travs,  in  which  were  an  hundred  thou¬ 
sand  ducats  of  gold,  which  were  put 
into  the  casket  u  before  all  the  Signori.” 
But  our  chronicler  is  compelled  by 
his  love  of  truth  to  add  reluctantly 
that  there  wTere  several  false  ducats 
among  them.1 

It  is  evident  from  the  nature  of  many 
of  the  articles  in  the  above  list,  that 
this  “  trousseau  ”  was  not  merely  a 
bride’s  fitting  out  purchased  for  the 
occasion,  but  was  a  collection  of  all 
the  Lady  Bona’s  chattel  property,  and 
represented,  as  was  then  usually  the 
case  with  all  wealthy  persons,  a  very 
large,  if  not  the  principal  part,  of  the 
worldly  goods. 

It  may  well  be  imagined,  that 
Yittoria  was  not  sorry  to  return  to  the 
quiet  and  intellectual  society  of  Ischia 
after  these  tremendous  three  days  at 
Naples.  There  she  was  cheered  from 


1  See  Note  2. 


100 


'Vittoria  C olonna. 


time  to  time  by  three  or  four  sliort  visits 
from  her  husband  ;  and  by  continual 
tidings  of  his  increasing  reputation  and 
advancement  in  dignity  and  wealth  ;  a 
prosperity  which  she  considered  dearly 
purchased  by  his  almost  continual 
absence.  The  death  of  her  father 
Fabrizio  in  March,  1520,  and  that  of 
her  mother  in  1522,  made  her  feel  more 
poignantly  this  loneliness  of  heart. 

In  October  of  1522,  Pescara  made  a 
flying  visit  to  his  wife  and  home.  ITe 
was  with  her  three  days  only,  and  then 
hastened  back  to  the  army.  It  was  the 
last  time  she  ever  saw  him.  His  career 
with  the  armv  meantime  was  very 
glorious.  In  May,  1522,  he  took  and 
sacked  Genoa  ;  “  con  la  maggior  crode- 
litate  de  lo  mundo,  ”  writes  admiring 
Passeri.  The  plundering  lasted  a  day 
and  a  half ;  and  “  da  che  lo  mundo  fo 
mundo,  ”  never  was  seen  a  sacking  of 
so  great  riches,  “  for  there  was  not  a 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


101 


single  solder  who  did  not  at  the  least 
get  a  thousand  ducats.”  Then,  with 
the  year  1525  came,  on  the  24th  of 
February,  the  memorable  day  of  Pavia, 
which  was  so  glorious  that,  as  Pas- 
seri  writes,  the  desolation  inflicted  by 
it  on  the  country  around  was  such, 
that  neither  house,  tree,  nor  vine  was 
to  be  seen  for  miles.  All  was  burned. 
Few  living  creatures  were  to  be  met 
with,  and  those  subsisting  miserably 
on  roots. 

Hie  result  of  that  u  field  of  honor  ”  is 
sufficiently  well  known.  Pescara,  who 
received  three  wounds,  though  none  of 
them  serious,  in  the  battle,  considered 
that  he  was  ill-used,  when  the  royal 
captive  Francis  was  taken  out  of  his 
hands  to  Spain,  and  made  complaints 
on  the  subject  to  his  master  Charles  Y, 
who  had  succeeded  Ferdinand  on  the 
thrones  of  Spain  and  Naples  in  1516. 
He  was  now,  however,  at  the  age  of 
9* 


102 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


thirty-five,  general-in -chief  for  that 
monarch  in  Lombardy,  and  enjoyed  his 
perfect  confidence,  when  circumstan¬ 
ces  arose  calculated  to  try  his  fidelity 
severely.  Whether  that,  almost  the 
only  virtue  recognized,  honored,  and 
professed  by  his  own  class  at  that  day, 
remained  altogether  intact  and  un¬ 
blemished  is  doubtful.  But  it  is  cer¬ 
tain,  that  in  any  view  of  the  case,  his 
conduct  was  such  as  would  consign 
him  to  utter  infamy  in  any  somewhat 
more  morally  enlightened  age  than  his 
own,  and  such  as  any  noble-hearted 
man,  however  untaught,  would  have 
instinctively  shrunk  from  even  then. 

The  circumstances  briefly  were  as 
follows  : — 

Clement  VII,  who  had  succeed¬ 
ed  to  the  Popedom  in  1523,  had,  after 
much  trimming  and  vacillation  be¬ 
tween  Francis  I  and  Charles  V,  be¬ 
come,  like  the  rest  of  Italy,  exceed- 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


103 


ingly  alarmed  at  the  preponderating 
power  of  Charles,  after  the  discomfiture 
of  the  French  at  Pavia.  Now  the  dis¬ 
content  of  Pescara,  mentioned  above, 
being  notorious,  the  Pope  and  his 
counsellors,  especially  Giberti,  Bishop 
of  Verona,  and  Morone,  Chancellor 
and  Prime  Minister  of  the  Duke  of 
Milan,  thought  that  it  might  not  be 
impossible  to  induce  him  to  turn  traitor 
to  Charles,  and  make  use  of  the  army 
under  his  command  to  crush  once  and 
for  ever  the  Spanish  power  in  Italy. 
The  prime  mover  and  agent  in  this 
conspiracy  was  Morone,  who  had  the 
reputation  of  being  one  of  the  pro- 
foundest  and  most  far-sighted  statesmen 
of  his  day.  Guicciardini1  has  record¬ 
ed,  that  he  (the  historian)  had  often 
heard  Morone  declare,  that  there  did 
not  exist  a  worse  or  more  faithless  man 
in  all  Italy  than  Pescara.  The  conspir- 


1  1st.  Ital.,  lib.  xvi.  cap.  i. 


104 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


ing  Chancellor,  therefore,  being  em¬ 
powered  by  the  Pope  to  promise  the 
malcontent  general  the  throne  of  Na¬ 
ples  as  the  price  of  his  treason,  thought 
that  he  might  well  venture  to  make  the 
proposal. 

Pescara  received  his  overtures  favor¬ 
ably,  saying,  that  if  he  could  be  satisfied 
that  what  was  proposed  to  him  could  be 
done  without  injury  to  his  h  nor ,  he 
would  willingly  undertake  it,  and  ac¬ 
cept  the  reward  offered  to  him.1  Up¬ 
on  this  reply  being  communicated  to 
the  Pope,  a  couple  of  cardinals  forth¬ 
with  wrote  to  the  Marchese,  assuring 
him  that  the  treason  required  of  him 
was,  “  according  to  the  dispositions  and 
ordinances  of  the  laws,  civil  as  well  as 
canon,”  2  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
nicest  honor.  Meanwhile,  however,  it 
chanced,  that  one  Messer  Gfismondo 

1  Varchi,  Storia  Fiorentina,  vol.  i.  p.  88,  edit.  Firenze,  1843. 

2  Varchi,  p.  89. 


105 


„  Vi  t  tori  a  C  olonna . 

Santi,  who  had  been  sent  by  the  con¬ 
spirators  with  letters  on  the  subject 
into  France  or  Switzerland,  was  mur¬ 
dered  tor  the  purpose  of  robbery,  by 
an  innkeeper  with  whom  he  lodged  at 
Bergamo,  and  was  buried  under  the 
stair-case,  as  was  discovered  some  years 
afterwards.  And  as  no  tidings  were 
heard  of  this  messenger,  all  engaged  in 
the  plot,  and  Pescara  among  them, 
suspected  that  he  had  been  waylaid 
lor  the  sake  of  his  dispatches,  and  that 
thus  all  was  probably  made  known  to 
Charles.  Thereupon  Pescara  imme¬ 
diately  wrote  to  the  Emperor,  reveal¬ 
ing  the  whole  conspiracy,  and  declaring 
that  he  had  given  ear  to  their  proposals 
only  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  full 
information  of  the  conspirators’  designs. 

Such  is  the  version  of  the  story  given 
by  Varchi,  probably  the  most  trust¬ 
worthy  of  all  the  numerous  contempo¬ 
rary  historians.  He  adds,  “  it  is  not  un- 


106 


Vittorio,  Colonna.  • 


known  to  me,  that  many  say,  and  per¬ 
haps  think,  that  the  Marchese,  acting 
loyally  from  the  beginning,  had  all 
along  given  the  Emperor  true  informa¬ 
tion  of  every  thing ;  all  which  I,  for 
my  part,  knowing  nothing  further  than 
what  I  have  said,  will  not  undertake 
to  deny.  It  would,  indeed,  be  agree¬ 
able  to  me  to  believe  that  it  was  so, 
rather  than  that  the  character  of  so 
great  a  soldier  should  be  stained  with 
so  foul  a  blot.  Though,  indeed,  I 
know  not  what  sort  of  loyalty  or  sin¬ 
cerity  that  may  be,  which  consists  in 
having  deceived  and  betrayed  by  vile 
trickery  and  fraud  a  Pope,  who,  if 
nothing  else,  was  at  least  very  friendly 
to  him,  a  republic  such  as  that  of  Yen- 
ice,  and  many  other  personages,  for 
the  sake  of  acquiring  favor  with  his 
master.  This  I  know  well,  that  the 
lady  Yittoria  Colonna,  his  wife,  a 
woman  of  the  highest  character,  and 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


107 


abounding  in  all  the  virtues  which  can 
adorn  her  sex,  had  no  sooner  heard  of 
the  intrigue  on  foot,  than,  wholly  un¬ 
tempted  by  the  brilliant  hope  hung  out 
to  her,  she  with  infinite  sorrow  and 
anxiety  wrote  most  warmly  to  her 
husband,  urging  him  to  bethink  him  of 
his  hitherto  unstained  character,  and  to 
weigh  well  what  he  was  about,  assuring 
him  that  as  far  as  she  was  concerned, 
she  had  no  wish  to  be  the  wife  of  a  kins:, 
but  only  of  a  loyal  and  upright  man.  ’’ 
This  letter  from  Vittoria,  urging  her 
husband  not  to  be  seduced  to  swerve 
from  the  path  of  honor  and  duty,  is 
recorded  by  most  of  the  writers ;  and 
Visconti  asserts,  that  it  was  the  means 
of  inducing  Pescara  to  abandon  the 
idea  of  betraying  his  sovereign.  At  all 
events,  the  existence  of  such  a  letter  is 
very  strong  evidence  that  Pescara  had 
not  from  the  first  informed  Charles  of  the 
plot,  but  had  at  least  hesitated  whether 


108 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


he  should  not  join  in  it,  inasmuch  as 
his  communications  to  her  upon  the 
subject  had  given  her  reason  to  tear 
lest  he  should  do  so. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  fair  to  ob¬ 
serve,  that  several  ot  those  concerned 
in  tli  *  intrigue  saw  reason  to  suspect 
the  possibility  of  Pescara’s  having 
from  the  first  listened  to  their  overtures 
only  to  betray  them;  as  is  proved  by  ex¬ 
tant  letters  from  one  to  another  of  them.1 

Perhaps  this,  too,  was  consistent 
with  the  nicest  honor,  as  defined  uby 
the  ordinances  of  canon  and  civil 
law.”  But  whether  he  were  a  traitor 
to  his  king  or  not,  h  *  was  determined 
to  shrink  from  no  depth  of  treachery 
toward  liis  dupes,  that  could  serve  to 
ingratiate  him  with  his  master.  While 
still  feigning  to  accede  to  their  propos¬ 
als,  lie  sent  to  Morone  to  come  to  him 


i  Lettere  de  Principi,  vol.  i.  p.  87.  See  Letters  from 
Giberto  to  Gismondo  Santo,  and  to  Domenico  Sanli. 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


109 


at  Novara,  that  all  might  be  arranged 
between  them.  Moron e,  against  the 
advice  of  many  of  his  friends,  and,  as 
Guicciardini  thought,1  with  a  degree 
of  imprudence  astonishing  in  so  practis¬ 
ed  and  experienced  a  man,  went  to  the 
meeting.  He  was  received  in  the  most 
cordial  manner  by  Pescara,  who,  as 
soon  as  they  were  alone  together,  led 
him  to  speak  of  all  the  details  of  the 
proposed  plan.  The  trap  was  com¬ 
plete  ;  for  behind  the  hangings  of  the 
room  in  which  they  were  sitting,  he 
had  hidden  Antonio  da  Leyva,  one  of 
the  generals  of  the  Spanish  army,  who 
arrested  .  him  as  he  was  quitting  the 
house,  and  took  him  to  the  prison  of 
Novara,  where  Pescara  the  next  day 
had  the  brazen  audacity  to  examine  as 
a  judge  the  man  whom  a  few  hours 
previously  he  had  talked  with  as  an 
accomplice.2 

1  Storia,  lib.  xvii.  chap.  iv.  3  Guicciardini,  lib.  xvii.  chap.  iv. 

10 


110 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


Surely,  whichever  version  of  the 
story  may  be  believed,  as  to  Pescara’s 
original  intentions,  there  is  enough 
here  in  evidence  to  go  far  towards  jus¬ 
tifying  Chancellor  Morone’s  opinion, 
that  he  was  one  of  the  worst  and 
most  faithless  men  in  Italy.  Some 
modern  Italian  writers,  with  little  mor¬ 
al,  and  less  historical  knowledge,  have 
rested  the  gravamen  of  the  charge 
against  him  on  his  want  of  patriotic 
Italian  feeling  on  the  occasion.  In  the 
first  place,  no  such  motive,  however 
laudable  in  itself,  could  have  justified 
him  in  being  guilty  of  the  treason  pro¬ 
posed  to  him.  In  the  second  place, 
the  class  of  ideas  in  question  can  hard¬ 
ly  be  found  to  have  had  any  existence 
at  that  period,  although  distinct  traces 
of  such  may  be  met  with  in  Italian  his¬ 
tory  200  years  earlier.  Certainly  the 
Venetian  Senate  were  not  actuated  bv 

V 

any  such  ;  and  still  more  absurd  would 


"Vittorio,  Colonna. 


Ill 


it  be  to  attribute  them  to  Pope  Cle¬ 
ment.  It  is  possible  that  Morone, 
and  perhaps  still  more,  Giberti,  may 
not  have  been  untinctured  by  them. 

But  Pescara  was  one  of  the  last  men, 
even  had  he  been  as  high-minded  as 
we  find  him  to  have  been  the  reverse, 
in  whom  to  look  for  Italian  “ fuori  i 
barbari  ”  enthusiasm.  Of  noble  Span¬ 
ish  blood,  his  family  had  always  been 
the  counsellors,  friends,  and  close  ad¬ 
herents  of  a  Spanish  dynasty  at  Naples, 
and  the  man  himself  was  especially 
Spanish  in  all  his  sympathies  and  ideas. 
u  He  adopted,” 1  says  Giovio,  “  in 
all  his  costume  the  Spanish  fashion, 
and  always  preferred  to  speak  in  that 
language  to  such  a  degree,  that  with 
Italians,  and  even  with  Vittoria  his 
wife,  he  talked  Spanish.”  And  else¬ 
where  he  is  said  to  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  expressing  his  regret  that  he 
was  not  born  a  Spaniard. 

1  Vita.  lib.  1. 


112 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


Such  habits  and  sentiments  would 
have  been  painful  enough  to  a  wife,  a 
Roman  and  a  Colonna,  if  Vittoria  had 
been  sufficiently  in  advance  of  her 
age  to  have  conceived  patriotic  ideas 
of  Italian  nationality.  But  though 
her  pursuits  and  studies  were  infinitely 
more  likely  to  have  led  her  mind  to  such 
thoughts,  than  were  those  of  the  actors 
in  the  political  drama  of  the  time  to 
generate  any  such  notions  in  them,  yet 
no  trace  of  any  sentiment  of  the  kind  is 
to  be  found  in  her  writings.  Consid¬ 
ering  the  extent  of  the  field  over  which 
her  mind  had  travelled,  her  acquaint¬ 
ance  with  classical  literature,  and  with 
the  history  of  her  own  country,  it  may 
seem  surprising  that  a  nature,  certainly 
capable  of  high  and  noble  aspirations, 
should  have  remained  untouched  by 
one  of  the  noblest.  That  it  was  so  is  a 
striking  proof  of  the  utter  insensibility 
Df  the  age  to  any  feelings  of  the  sort. 


T  it  tori  a  C  ol  onna. 


113 


It  is  possible,  too,  that  the  tendencies 
and  modes  ol  thought  of  her  husband  on 
the  subject  of  Italy  may  have  exercised 
a  repressing  influence  in  this  respect 
on  Vittoria’s  mind ;  for  who  does  not 
knowT  how  powerfully  a  woman’s  intel¬ 
ligence  and  heart  may  be  elevated  or 
degraded  by  the  nature  of  the  object 
of  her  affections;  and,  doubtless,  to 
Vittoria  as  to  so  many  another  of  every 
age  do  the  admirable  lines  of  the  poet 
address  themselves  : — 

“  Thou  shalt  lower  to  his  level  day  by  day, 
What  is  fine  within  thee  growing  coarse  to  sympathize 
with  clay. 

As  the  husband  is,  the  wife  is  ;  thou  art  mated  with  a 
clown, 

And  the  grossness  of  his  nature  will  have  weight  to 
drag  thee  down.” 

When  we  come  to  examine  the  tone 
of  sentiment  prevailing  in  Vittoria’s 
poetry,  other  indications  of  this  dete¬ 
riorating  influence  will  be  perceptible, 
10* 


114 


~Vittoria  C olonna. 


and  if  much  of  nobleness,  purity,  high 
aspiration  be  nevertheless  still  found  in 
her,  this  partial  immunity  from  the 
evil  influence  must  be  attributed  to 
the  trifling  duration  of  that  portion  of 
her  life  passed  in  her  husband’s  com¬ 
pany. 

Pescara  was  not  unrewarded  for  the 
infamy  with  which  he  covered  himself 
in  the  service  of  his  master.  He  ob¬ 
tained  the  rank  of  Generalissimo  of 
the  imperial  forces  in  Italy.  But  he 
enjoyed  the  gratification  for  a  very 
little  while.  In  the  latter  end  of  that 
year,  he  fell  into  a  state  of  health  which 
seems  to  have  been  not  well  accounted 
for  by  the  medical  science  of  that 
day.  The  wounds  he  had  received  at 
Pavia  in  the  previous  February,  are 
specially  described  by  Passeri  as  hav¬ 
ing  been  very  slight.  Some  writers 
have  supposed  that  either  shame  for 
the  part  he  had  acted  in  the  Morone 


VMtoria  C olonna. 


115 


affair;  or,  with  greater  probability, 
misgiving  as  to  the  possibility  of  the 
Emperor’s  discovering  the  real  truth  of 
the  facts,  (for  the  fate  of  Gismondo 
Santi  and  his  papers  was  not  known 
yet),  was  the  real  cause  of  his  illness. 
It  seems  clearly  to  have  been  of  the  na¬ 
ture  of  a  sudden  and  premature  decay 
of  all  the  vital  forces. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  he  aban¬ 
doned  all  hope  of  recovery,  and  sent 
to  his  wife  to  desire  her  to  come  to  him 
with  all  speed.  He  was  then  at  Milan. 
She  set  out  instantly  on  her  painful 
journey,  and  had  reached  Viterbo  on 
her  way  northwards,  when  she  was  met 
by  the  news  of  his  death. 

It  took  place  on  the  25tli  of  Novem¬ 
ber,  1525.  He  was  buried  on  the  30th 
of  that  month,  says  Giovio,  at  Milan  ; 
but  the  body  was  shortly  afterwards 
transported  with  great  pomp  and  mag¬ 
nificence  to  Naples. 


1 J  6 


Vittoria  Colonna . 


CHAPTER  V. 

Vittoria,  %  Widow,  with  the  Nuns  of  San  Silvestro. — Re¬ 
turns  to  Ischia. — Her  Poetry  divisible  into  two  classes. — 
Specimens  of  her  Sonnets. — They  rapidly  attain  celebrity 
throughout  Italy. — Vittoria’s  sentiments  towards  her  Hus¬ 
band.— Her  unblemished  Character. — Platonic  Love.— The 
Love  Poetry  of  the  Sixteenth  Century. 


Vittoria  became  thus  a  widow  in  the 
thirty-sixth  year  of*  her  age.  She  was 
still  in  the  full  pride  of  her  beauty,  as 
contemporary  writers  assert,  and  as  two 
extant  medals,  struck  at  Milan  shortly 
before  her  husband’s  death,  attest.  One 
of  them  presents  the  bust  of  Pescara  on 
the  obverse,  and  that  of  Vittoria  on  the 
reverse  ;  the  other  has  the  same  por- 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


ii  7 


trait  of  her  on  the  obverse,  and  a  mili¬ 
tary  trophy  on  the  reverse.  The  face 
represented  is  a  very  beautiful  one,  and 
seen  thus  in  profile  is  perhaps  more 
pleasing  than  the  portrait,  which  has 
been  spoken  of  in  a  previous  chapter. 
She  was  moreover  even  now  probably 
the  most  celebrated  woman  in  Italy, 
although  she  had  done  little  as  yet  to 
achieve  that  immense  reputation  which 
awaited  her  a  few  years  later.  Very 
few  probably  of  her  sonnets  were  writ¬ 
ten  before  the  death  of  her  husband. 

But  the  exalted  rank  and  prominent 
position  of  her  own  family,  the  high 
military  grade  and  reputation  of  her 
husband,  the  wide-spread  hopes  and 
fears  of  which  he  had  recently  been  the 
centre  in  the  affair  of  the  conspiracy,  join¬ 
ed  to  the  fame  of  her  talents,  learning, 
and  virtues,  which  had  been  made  the 
subject  of  enthusiastic  praise  by  nearly 
all  the  Ischia  knot  of  poets  and  wits, 


118 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


rendered  her  a  very  conspicuous  person 
in  the  eyes  of  all  Italy.  Her  husband’s 
premature  and  unexpected  death  add¬ 
ed  a  source  of  interest  of  yet  another 
kind  to  her  person.  A  young,  beautiful, 
and  very  wealthy  widow,  gave  rise  to 
quite  as  many  hopes,  speculations,  and 
designs  in  the  sixteenth  century  as  in 
any  other. 

But  \^ittoria’s  first  feeling,  on  receiv¬ 
ing  that  fatal  message  at  Viterbo,  was, 
that  she  could  never  again  face  that 
world,  which  was  so  ready  to  open  its 
arms  to  her.  Escape  from  the  world, 
solitude,  a  cell,  whose  walls  should  re¬ 
semble,  as  nearly  as  might  be,  those  of 
the  grave,  since  that  asylum  was  denied 
to  her,  was  her  only  wish.  And  she 
hastened,  stunned  by  her  great  grief, 
to  Rome,  with  the  intention  of  throwing 
herself  into  a  cloister.  The  convent  of 
San  Silvestro  in  Capite — so  called  from 
the  supposed  possession  by  the  com- 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


119 


nmnity  of  the  Baptist’s  head — had  al¬ 
ways  been  a  special  object  of  venera¬ 
tion  to  the  Colonna  family ;  and  there 
she  sought  a  retreat.  Her  many  friends, 
well  knowing  the  desperation  of  her 
affliction,  feared,  that  acting  under  the 
spur  of  its  first  violence,  she  would  take 
the  irrevocable  step  of  pronouncing  the 
vows.  That  a  Vittoria  Colonna  should 
be  so  lost  to  the  world  was  not  to  he 
thought  of.  So  Jacopo  Sadoleto,  Bishop 
of  Carpentras,  and  afterwards  made  a 
cardinal  by  Pope  Paul  III,  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  his  day,  himself  a 
poet,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Vittoria, 
hastened  to  Pope  Clement,  whose  sec¬ 
retary  he  was  at  the  time,  and  obtained 
from  him  a  brief  addressed  to  the  ab¬ 
bess  and  nuns  of  San  Silvestro,  enjoin¬ 
ing  them  to  receive  into  their  lions 
and  console  to  the  best  of  their  ability 
the  Marcliesana  di  Pescara,  “  omnibin 
spiritualibus  et  temporalibus  consola- 


120 


'Vittoria  Colonna. 


tionibus,”  but  forbidding  them,  under 
pain  of  the  greater  excommunication, 
to  permit  her  to  take  the  veil,  u  impetu 
potius  sui  doloris,  quam  maturo  consilio 
circa  mutationem  vestium  vidualiumin 
monasticas.” 

This  brief  is  dated  the  7th  December, 
1525. 

She  remained  with  the  sisters  of  San 
Silvestro  till  the  autumn  of  the  follow¬ 
ing  year  ;  and  would  have  further  de¬ 
ferred  returning  into  a  world  which  the 
conditions  of  the  times  made  less  than 
ever  tempting  to  her,  had  not  her 
brother  Ascanio,  now  her  only  remain¬ 
ing  natural  protector,  taken  her  from 
the  convent  to  Marino,  in  consequence 
ol  the  Colonna  clan  being  once  again 
at  war  with  the  Pope,  as  partisans  of 
the  Emperor. 

On  the  20th  of  September,  1526,  this 
ever  turbulent  family  raised  a  tumult 
in  Rome  to  the  cry  of  “  Imperio  !  Im- 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


121 


perio  !  Liberta  !  Liberia  !  Colonna  ! 
Colonna!”  and  sacked  the  Vatican, 
and  every  bouse  belonging  to  the  Or- 
sini  the  old  clan  hatred  showing  itself 
as  usual  on  every  pretext  and  opportu¬ 
nity. 

The  result  was  a  papal  decree,  de¬ 
priving  Cardinal  Colonna  of  his  hat ; 
and  declaring  confiscated  all  the  estates 
of  the  family.  Deeply  grieved  by  all 
these  excesses,  both  by  the  lawless 
violence  of  her  kinsmen,  and  by  the 
punishment  incurred  by  them,  she  Left 
Marino,  and  once  more  returned  to  the 
retirement  of  Ischia  in  the  beginning 
of  1527.  It  was  well  for  her  that  she 
had  decided  on  not  remaining  in  or 
near  Rome  during  that  fatal  year. 
While  the  eternal  city  and  its  neigh¬ 
borhood  were  exposed  to  the  untold 
horrors  and  atrocities  committed  by  the 

1  Contemporary  copy  of  the  Act  of  Accusation,  cited  by 
Visconti,  p.  ci. 


11 


122 


V ittoria  Colonna. 


soldiers  of  the  Most  Catholic  King, 
Vittoria  was  safe  in  her  island  home, 
torn  indeed  to  the  heart  by  the  tidings 
which  reached  her  of  the  ruin  and  dis¬ 
persion  of  many  valued  friends,  but  at 
least  tranquil  and  secure. 

And  now,  if  not  perhaps  while  she 
was  still  with  the  nuns  of  San  Silves- 
tro,  began  her  life  as  a  poetess.  She 
had  hitherto  written  but  little,  and  oc¬ 
casionally  only.  Henceforward,  poeti¬ 
cal  composition  seems  to  have  made 
the  great  occupation  of  her  life.  Vis¬ 
conti,  the  latest,  and  by  far  the  best 
editor  of  her  works,  has  divided  them 
into  two  portions.  With  two  or  three 
unimportant  exceptions,  of  which  the 
letter  to  her  husband  already  noticed  is 
the  most  considerable,  they  consist  en¬ 
tirely  of  sonnets.  The  first  of  Signor 
Visconti’s  divisions,  comprising  134 
sonnets,  includes  those  inspired  almost 
entirely  by  her  grief  for  the  loss  of  her 


I ritt  oria  C olonna . 


123 


husband.  They  form  a  nearly  unin¬ 
terrupted  series  “In  Memoriam,”  in 
which  the  changes  are  rung  with  infi¬ 
nite  ingenuity  on  a  very  limited  num¬ 
ber  of  ideas,  all  turning  on  the  glory 
and  high  qualities  of  him  whom  she 
had  lost,  and  her  own  undiminished 
and  hopeless  misery. 


“  I  only  write  to  vent  that  inward  pain, 

On  which  my  heart  doth  feed  itself,  nor  wills 
Aught  other  nourishment,” 


begins  the  first  of  these  elegiac  sonnets  ; 
in  which  she  goes  on  to  disclaim  any 
idea  of  increasing  her  husband’s  glory, 
— “  non  per  giunger  lume  al  mio  bel 
sole  ;  ”  which  is  the  phrase  she  uses  in¬ 
variably  to  designate  him.  This  fancy 
of  alluding  to  Pescara  always  by  the 
same  not  very  happily  chosen  meta¬ 
phor,  contributes  an  additional  element 
of  monotony  to  verses  still  further  de- 


124 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


prived  of  variety  by  the  identity  of 
their  highly  artificial  form. 

This  form,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to 
remark,  more  than  any  other  mode  of 
the  lyre,  needs  and  exhibits  the  beau¬ 
ties  of  accurate  finish  and  neat  polish. 
Shut  out,  as  it  is,  by  its  exceeding  arti¬ 
ficiality  and  difficult  construction  from 
many  of  the  higher  beauties  of  more 
spontaneous  poetical  utterance,  the  son¬ 
net,  “  totus,  teres  atque  rotundus,”  is 
nothing  if  not  elaborated  to  gem-like 
perfection. 

Yet  Vittoria  writes  as  follows  : — 


“  Se  in  man  prender  non  soglio  unqua  la  lima 
Del  buon  giudicio,  e  ricercando  intorno 
Con  occhio  disdegnoso,  io  non  adorno 
Ne  tergo  la  mia  rozza  incolta  rima, 

Nasce  perche  non  e  mia  cura  prima 
Procacciar  di  cio  lode,  o  fuggir  scorno ; 

Ne  che  dopo  il  mio  lieto  al  ciel  ritorno 
Viva  ella  al  mondo  in  piu  onorata  stima. 

Ma  dal  foco  divin,  che  ’1  mio  intelletto 
Sua  merce  infiamma,  convien  che  escan  fuore 
Mai  mio  grado  talor  queste  faville. 


Vittor  i a  C olonna . 


125 


E  se  alcuna  di  loro  un  gentil  core 
Avvien  che  scaldi,  mille  volte  e  mille 
Ringraziar  debbo  il  mio  felice  errore.” 

Which  may  be  tints  Englished  with 
tolerable  accuracy  of  meaning,  if  not 
with  much  poetical  elegance.1 

“  If  in  these  rude  and  artless  songs  of  mine 
I  never  take  the  file  in  hand,  nor  try 
With  curious  care,  and  nice  fastidious  eye, 

To  deck  and  polish  each  uncultured  line, 

’Tis  that  it  makes  small  portion  of  my  aim 

To  merit  praise,  or  ’scape  scorn’s  blighting  breath  ; 
Or  that  my  verse,  when  I  have  welcomed  death, 
May  live  rewarded  with  the  meed  of  fame. 

But  it  must  be  that  Heaven’s  own  gracious  gift, 
Which  with  its  breath  divine  inspires  my  soul, 
Strike  forth  these  sparks,  unbidden  by  my  will. 
And  should  one  such  but  haply  serve  to  lift 
One  gentle  heart,  I  thankful  reach  my  goal, 

And,  faulty  tho’  the  strain,  my  every  wish  fulfil.” 


Again,  in  another  sonnet,  of  which 
the  first  eight  lines  are  perhaps  as  fa¬ 
vorable  a  specimen  of  a  really  poetical 
image  as  can  be  found  throughout  her 

1  Sec  Note  3. 

11* 


126 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


writings,  she  repeats  the  same  profes¬ 
sion  of  “pouring  an  unpremeditated 
lay.” 

“  Qual  digiuno  augellin,  che  vede  ed  ode 
Batter  1’  ali  alia  madre  intorno,  quando 
Gli  reca  il  nutrimento ;  ond  egli  amando 
II  cibo  e  quella,  si  rallegra  e  gode, 

E  dentro  al  nido  suo  si  strugge  e  rode 
Per  desio  di  seguirla  anch’  ei  volando, 

E  la  ringrazia  in  tal  modo  cantando, 

Che  par  ch’  oltre  ’1  poter  la  lingua  snode ; 

Tal’  io  qualor  il  caldo  raggio  e  vivo 
Del  divin  sole,  onde  nutrisco  il  core 
Piu  del  usato  lucido  lampeggia, 

Muovo  la  penna,  spinta  dall’  amore 
Interno ;  e  senza  ch’  io  stessa  m’avveggia 
Di  quel  ch’  io  dico  le  sue  lodi  scrivo.” 

Which  in  English  runs  pretty  exact¬ 
ly  as  follows : 

“  Like  to  a  hungry  nestling  bird,  that  hears 

And  sees  the  fluttering  of  his  mother’s  wings 
Bearing  him  food,  whence,  loving  what  she  brings 
And  her  no  less,  a  joyful  mien  he  wears, 

And  struggles  in  the  nest,  and  vainly  stirs, 

Wishful  to  follow  her  free  wanderings, 

And  thanks  her  in  such  fashion,  while  he  sings, 
That  the  free  voice  beyond  his  strength  appears; 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


12 1 


So  I,  whene’er  the  warm  and  living  glow 
Of  him  my  sun  divine,  that  feeds  my  heart, 

Shines  brighter  than  its  wont,  take  up  the  pen, 
Urged  by  the  force  of  my  deep  love ;  and  so 
Unconscious  of  the  words  unkempt  by  art 
I  write  his  praises  o’er  and  o’er  again.” 

The  reader  conversant  with  Italian 
poetry  will  have  already  seen  enough 
to  make  him  aware,  that  the  Colonna’s 
compositions  are  by  no  means  unkempt, 
unpolished,  or  spontaneous.  The  merit 
of  them  consists  in  the  high  degree,  to 
which  they  are  exactly  the  reverse  of 
all  this.  They  are  ingenious,  neat, 
highly  studied,  elegant,  and  elaborate. 
It  may  be  true,  indeed,  that  much 
thought  was  not  expended  on  the  sub¬ 
ject  matter;  but  it  was  not  spared  on 
the  diction,  versification,  and  form. 
So  much  so,  that  many  of  her  sonnets 
were  retouched,  altered,  improved,  and 
finally  left  to  posterity,  in  a  form  very 
different  from  that  in  which  they  were 
first  handed  round  the  literary  world 


128 


I rittoria  Colonna. 


of  Italy.1  The  file,  in  truth,  was  con¬ 
stantly  in  hand ;  though  the  nice  fas¬ 
tidious  care  bestowed  in  dressing  out 
with  curious  conceits  a  jejune  or  trite 
thought,  which  won  the  enthusiastic 
applause  of  her  contemporaries,  does 
not  to  the  modern  reader  compensate 
for  the  absence  of  passion,  earnestness, 
and  reality. 

Then,  again,  the  declaration  of  the 
songstress  of  these  would-be  “  wood 
notes  wild,”  that  they  make  no  preten¬ 
sion  to  the  meed  of  praise,  nor  care  to 
escape  contempt,  nor  are  inspired  by 
any  hope  of  a  life  of  fame  after  the 
author’s  death,  leads  us  to  contrast  with 
such  professions  the  destiny  that  really 
did, — surely  not  altogether  unsought, 
— await  these  grief-inspired  utterances 
of  a  breaking  heart  during  the  author’s 
lifetime. 


1  See  advertisement  “ai  lettori”  of  Einaldo’s  Corso’s 
sdition  of  the  sonnet.  Venice,  155S. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


129 


No  sooner  was  each  memory-born 
pang  illustrated  by  an  ingenious  meta¬ 
phor,  or  pretty  simile,  packed  neatly 
in  its  regulation  case  of  fourteen  lines, 
with  their  complexity  of  twofold  rhymes 
all  right,  than  it  was  handed  all  over 
Italy.  Copies  were  as  eagerly  sought 
for  as  the  novel  of  the  season  at  a 
nineteenth-century  circulating  library. 
Cardinals,  bishops,  poets,  wits,  diplo¬ 
matists,  passed  them  from  one  to  an¬ 
other,  made  them  the  subject  of  their 
correspondence  with  each  other,  and 
writh  the  fair  mourner;  and  eagerly 
looked  out  for  the  next  poetical  bonne- 
bouche  which  her  undying  grief  and 
constancy  to  her  “  bel  sole  ”  should 
send  them. 

The  enthusiasm  created  by  these 
tuneful  wailings  of  a  young  widow  as 
lovely  as  inconsolable,  as  irreproacha¬ 
ble  as  noble,  learned  enough  to  corre¬ 
spond  with  the  most  learned  men  of  the 


130 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


day  on  their  own  subjects,  and  with  all 
this  a  Colonna,  was  intense.  Yittoria 
became  speedily  the  most  famous  wo¬ 
man  of  her  day,  was  termed  by  univer¬ 
sal  consent  “  the  divine,”  and  lived  to 
see  three  editions  of  the  grief-cries, 
which  escaped  from  her  “  without  her 
will.” 

Here  is  a  sonnet,  which  was  proba¬ 
bly  written  at  the  time  of  her  return  to 
Ischia  in  1527 ;  when  the  sight  of  all 
the  well-loved  scenery  of  the  home  of 
her  happy  years  must  have  brought  to 
her  mind  Dante’s — 

“  Nessun  maggior  dolore 
Che  ricordarsi  del  tempo  felice 
Nella  miseria!  ” 

Yittoria  looks  back  on  the  happy 
time  as  follows  : — 

“  Oh !  che  tranquillo  mar,  oh  che  chiare  onde 
Solcava  gia  la  mia  spalmata  barca, 

Di  ricca  e  nobil  merce  adorna  e  carca, 

Con  1’  aer  puro,  e  con  1’  aure  seconde, 


Vittoria  Col onna. 


131 


II  ciel,  ch’ora  i  bei  vaghi  lumi  asconde 
Porgea  serena  luce  e  d’  ombra  scarca; 

Ahi !  quaiito  ha  da  temer  chi  lieto  varca! 
Che  non  sempre  al  principio  il  fin  risponde. 
Ecco  P  empia  e  volubile  fortuna 
Scoperse  poi  P  irata  iniqua  fronte, 

Dal  cui  furor  si  gran  proeella  insorge. 
Venti,  pioggia,  saette  insieme  aduna, 

E  fiere  intorno  a  divorarmi  pronte  ; 

Ma  P  alma  an  cor  la  fida  stella  scorge.” 


In  English,  thus  : — 

‘  On  what  smooth  seas,  on  what  clear  waves  did  sail 
My  fresh  careened  bark !  what  costly  freight 
Of  noble  merchandise  adorn’d  its  state ! 

How  pure  the  breeze,  how  favoring  the  gale ! 

And  Heaven,  which  now  its  beauteous  rays  doth  veil. 
Shone  then  serene  and  shadowless.  But  fate 
For  the  too  happy  voyager  lies  in  wait. 

Oft  fair  beginnings  in  their  endings  fail. 

And  now  doth  impious  changeful  fortune  bare 

Her  angry  ruthless  brow,  whose  threat’ning  powei 
Rouses  the  tempest,  and  lets  loose  its  war! 

But  though  rains,  winds,  and  lightnings  fill  the  air, 
And  wild  beasts  seek  to  rend  me  and  devour, 

Still  shines  o’er  my  true  soul  its  faithful  star.” 


Bearing  in  mind  what  we  have  seen 
of  Pescara,  it  would  seem  evident,  that 


132 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


some  monstrous  illusion  with  respect  to 
him  must  have  obscured  Vittoria’s 
mind  and  judgment.  It  might  have 
been  expected  that  she  would  have 
been  found  attributing  to  him  high  and 
noble  qualities,  which  existed  only  in 
her  own  imagination.  But  it  is  re¬ 
markable  that,  though  in  general  terms 
she  speaks  of  him  as  all  that  was  no¬ 
blest  and  greatest,  yet  in  describing  his 
merits,  she  confines  herself  to  the  few 
which  he  really  had.  This  highly-cul¬ 
tured,  devout,  thoughtful,  intellectual 
woman,  seems  really  to  have  believed, 
that  a  mercenary  swordsman’s  calling 
was  the  noblest  occupation  earth  could 
ofier,  and  the  successful  following  of  it 
the  best  preparation  and  surest  title  to 
immortal  happiness  hereafter. 

The  following  sonnet  is  one  of  many 
expressing  the  same  sentiments. 

“  Alle  Vittorie  tue,  mio  lume  eterno, 

Non  diede  il  tempo  o  la  stagion  fayore ; 


Vittor  ia  C olonna. 


133 


La  spada,  la  virtu,  1’  invitto  core 
Fur  li  ministri  tuoi  la  state  e’  verno. 

Col  prudente  occhio,  e  col  saggio  governo 
L’  altrui  forze  spezzasti  in  si  brev’  ore, 
Che  ’1  modo  all’  alte  imprese  accrebbe  onore 
Non  men  che  1’  opre  al  tuo  valore  interno. 
Non  tardaro  il  tuo  corso  animi  altieri, 

0  fiumi,  o  monti ;  e  le  maggior  cittadi 
Per  cortesia  od  ardir  rimasir  vinte. 

Salisti  al  mondo  i  piu  pregiati  gradi ; 

Or  godi  in  ciel  d’altri  trionfi  e  veri, 

D’  altre  frondi  le  tempie  ornate  e  cinte.” 


Which  may  be  Englished  as  fol¬ 
lows  : — • 


“  To  thy  great  victories,  my  eternal  light, 

Nor  time,  nor  seasons,  lent  their  favoring  aid; 
Thy  sword,  thy  might,  thy  courage  undismay’d, 
Summer  and  winter  serv’d  thy  will  aright. 

By  thy  wise  governance  and  eagle  sight, 

Thou  didst  so  rout  the  foe  with  headlong  speed, 
The  manner  of  the  doing  crown’d  the  deed, 

No  less  than  did  the  deed  display  thv  might. 
Mountains  and  streams,  and  haughty  souls  in  vain 
Would  check  thy  course.  By  force  of  courtesy 
Or  valor  vanquish’d,  cities  of  name  were  won. 
Earth’s  highest  honors  did  thy  worth  attain ; 

Now  truer  triumphs  Heaven  reserves  for  thee, 
And  nobler  garlands  do  thy  temples  crown.” 


12 


134 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


Often  her  wishes  for  death  are  check¬ 
ed  by  the  consideration,  that  haply  her 
virtue  may  not  suffice  to  enable  her  to 
rejoin  her  husband  in  the  mansions  of 
the  blest.  Take  the  the  following  ex¬ 
ample  : — 

“  Quando  del  suo  tormento  il  cor  si  duole 

Si  ch’  io  bramo  il  mio  fin,  timor  m’  assale, 

E  dice ;  il  morir  tosto  a  che  ti  vale 
Si  forse  lungi  vai  dal  tuo  bel  sole? 

Da  questa  fredda  tema  nascer  suole 
Un  caldo  ardir,  che  pon  d’  intorno  1’  ale 
All  alma ;  onde  disgombra  il  mio  mortale 
Quanto  ella  pud,  da  quel  ch’  1  mondo  vuole. 

Cosi  lo  spirto  mio  s’  asconde  e  copre 
Qui  dal  piacer  uman,  non  gia  per  fama 
0  van  grido,  o  pregiar  troppo  se  stesso ; 

Ma  sente  ’1  lume  suo,  che  ognor  lo  chiama, 

E  vede  il  volto,  ovunque  mira,  impresso, 

Che  gli  misura  i  passi  e  scorge  l’opre.” 

Thus  done  into  English  : — 

"  When  of  its  pangs  my  heart  doth  sore  complain, 

So  that  I  long  to  die,  fear  falls  on  me, 

And  saith,  what  boots  such  early  death  to  thee, 

If  far  from  thy  bright  sun  thou  should’ st  remain. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


135 


Then  oft  from  this  cold  fear  is  born  again 
A  fervent  boldness,  which  doth  presently 
Lend  my  soul  wings,  so  that  mortality 
Strives  to  put  off  its  worldly  wishes  vain. 

For  this,  my  spirit  here  herself  enfolds, 

And  hides  from  human  joys ;  and  not  for  fame, 
Nor  empty  praise,  nor  overblown  conceit ; 

But  that  she  hears  her  sun  still  call  her  name, 

And  still,  where’er  she  looks,  his  face  doth  meet, 
Who  measures  all  her  steps,  and  all  her  deeds  be 
holds.” 


A  similar  cast  of  thought,  both  as  re¬ 
gards  her  own  disgust  of  life  and  the 
halo  of  sanctity,  which  by  some  mys¬ 
terious  process  of  mind  she  was  able  to 
throw  around  her  husband’s  memory, 
is  found  again  in  this,  the  last  of  the 
sonnets,  selected  to  illustrate  this  phase 
of  our  poetess’s  mind,  and  exemplify 
the  first  division  of  her  writings. 


“  Cara  union,  che  in  si  mirabil  modo 
Fosti  ordinata  dal  signor  del  cielo, 

Che  lo  spirto  divino,  e  1’  uman  velo 
Lego  con  dolce  ed  amoroso  nodo, 

Io,  benchi  lui  di  si  bell’  opra  lodo, 

Pur  cerco,  e  ad  altri  il  mio  pensier  non  celo, 


136 


V ittoria  Golonna. 


Sciorre  il  tuo  laccio  ;  ni  piti  a  caldo  o  gelo 
Serbarti ;  poi  che  qui  di  te  non  godo. 

Che  1’  alma  chiusa  in  questo  career  rio 
Come  nemico  l’odia  ;  onde  smarrita 
Ne  vive  qui,  ne  vola  ove  desia. 

Quando  sara  con  suo  gran  sole  unita, 

Felice  giorno  !  allor  contenta  fia ; 

Che  sol  nel  river  suo  conobbe  vita.” 

Of  which  the  subjoined  rendering, 
prosaic  and  crabbed  as  it  is,  is  perhaps 
hardly  more  so  than  the  original. 

“  Sweet  bond,  that  wast  ordain’d  so  wondrous  well 
By  the  Almighty  ruler  of  the  sky, 

Who  did  unite  in  one  sweet  loving  tie 
The  godlike  spirit  and  its  fleshy  shell, 

I,  while  I  praise  his  loving  work,  yet  try — 

"Nor  wish  my  thought  from  others  to  withhold — 
To  loose  thy  knot ;  nor  more,  through  heat  or  cold, 
Preserve  thee,  since  in  thee  no  joy  have  I. 

Therefore  my  soul,  shut  in  this  dungeon  stern, 
Detests  it  as  a  foe ;  whence,  all  astray, 

She  lives  not  here,  nor  flies  where  she  would  go. 
When  to  her  glorious  sun  she  shall  return, 

Ah !  then  content  shall  come  with  that  blest  day, 
For  she,  but  while  he  liv’d,  a  sense  of  life  could 
know.” 

In  considering  the  collection  of  117 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


137 


sonnets,  from  which  the  above  speci 
mens  have  been  selected,  and  which 
were  probably  the  product  of  about 
seven  or  eight  years,  from  1526  to  1533 
— 1  (in  one  she  laments  that  the  seventh 
year  from  her  husband’s  death  should 
have  brought  with  it  no  alleviation  of 
her  grief) ;  the  most  interesting  ques¬ 
tion  that  suggests  itself,  is, — whether 
we  are  to  suppose  the  sentiments  ex¬ 
pressed  in  them  to  be  genuine  outpour¬ 
ings  of  the  heart,  or  rather  to  consider 
them  all  as  part  of  the  professional 
equipment  of  a  poet,  earnest  only  in 
the  work  of  achieving  a  high  and  bril¬ 
liant  poetical  reputation  ?  The  question 
is  a  prominent  one,  as  regards  the  con¬ 
crete  notion  to  be  formed  of  the  six¬ 
teenth-century  woman,  Yittoria  Colon¬ 
na  ;  and  is  not  without  interest  as  bear¬ 
ing  on  the  great  subject  of  woman’s 
nature. 

Yittoria’s  moral  conduct,  both  as  a 
12* 


138 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


wife  and  as  a  widow,  was  wholly  irre 
proacliable.  A  mass  of  concurrent  con¬ 
temporary  testimony  seems  to  leave 
no  doubt  whatever  on  this  point.  More 
than  one  of  the  poets  of  her  day  profess¬ 
ed  themselves  her  ardent  admirers, 
devoted  slaves,  and  despairing  lovers, 
according  to  the  most  approved  poeti¬ 
cal  and  Platonic  fashion  of  the  time ; 
and  she  received  their  inflated  bombast 
not  unpleased  with  the  incense,  and  an¬ 
swered  them  with  other  bombast,  all  en 
regle^  and  in  character.  The  “  carte  de 
tendre  ”  was  then  laid  down  on  the  Pla¬ 
tonic  projection;  and  the  sixteenth  cen¬ 
tury  fashion  in  this  respect  was  made  a 
convenient  screen,  for  those  to  whom 
a  screen  was  needful,  quite  as  frequent¬ 
ly  as  the  less  classical  whimsies  of  a 
later  period.  But  Platonic  love  to 
Vittoria  was  merely  an  occasion  for 
indulging  in  the  spiritualistic  pedan¬ 
tries,  by  which  the  classicists  of  that 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


139 


day  sought  to  link  the  infant  meta¬ 
physical  speculations  then  beginning 
to  grow  out  of  questions  of  church  doc¬ 
trine,  with  the  ever- interesting  subject 
of  romantic  love. 

A  recent  French  writer,1  having 
translated  into  prose  Vittoria’s  poetical 
epistle  to  her  husband,  adds  that  she 
has  been  “  obliged  to  veil  and  soften 
certain  passages  which  might  damage 
the  writer’s  poetical  character  in  the 
eyes  of  her  fair  readers,  by  exhibiting 
her  as  more  woman  than  poet  in  the 
ardent  and  ‘positive’  manner,  in  which 
she  speaks  of  her  love.’’  Never  was 
there  a  more  calumnious  insinuation. 
It  is  true  indeed  that  the  Frenchwoman 
omits,  or  slurs  over  some  passages  of 
the  original,  but  as  they  are  wholly 
void  of  the  shadow  of  offence,  it  can 
only  be  supposed  that  the  translator 

1  Madame  Lamaze,  Etudes  sur  Trois  Femmes  CelSbres; 
Saris,  1848,  p.  41. 


140 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


did  not  understand  the  meaning  of 
them. 

There  is  no  word  in  Vittoria’s  poetry 
which  can  lead  to  any  other  conclusion 
on  this  point,  than  that  she  was,  in 
her  position  and  social  rank,  an  exam¬ 
ple,  rare  at  that  period,  not  only  of 
perfect  regularity  of  conduct,  but  ot 
great  purity  and  considerable  elevation 
of  mind.  Such  other  indications  as  we 
have  of  her  moral  nature  are  all  favor¬ 
able.  We  find  her,  uninfluenced  by 
the  bitter  hereditary  hatreds  of  her 
family,  striving  to  act  as  peacemaker 
between  hostile  factions,  and  weeping 
over  the  mischiefs  occasioned  by  their 
struggles.  We  find  her  the  constant 
correspondent  and  valued  friend  of  al¬ 
most  every  good  and  great  man  of  her 
day.  And  if  her  scheme  of  moral  doc¬ 
trine,  as  gatherable  from  that  portion 
of  her  poems  which  we  have  not  yet 
examined,  be  narrow, — as  how  should 


Vittoria  C olonn a. 


141 


it  be  otherwise, — yet  it  is  expressive 
of  a  mind  habitually  under  the  influ¬ 
ence  ot  virtuous  aspiration,  and  is  more 
humanizing  in  its  tendencies,  than  that 
generally  prevalent  around  her. 

Such  was  Yittoria  Col  on  n  a.  It  has 
been  seen  what  her  husband  Pescara 
was.  And  the  question  arises, — how  far 
can  it  be  imagined  possible  that  she 
should  not  only  have  lavished  on  him  to 
the  last  while  living,  all  the  treasures 
of  an  almost  idolatrous  affection  ;  not 
only  have  looked  back  on  his  memory 
after  his  death  with  fondness  and  chari¬ 
table,  even  blindly  charitable  indul¬ 
gence  ;  but  should  absolutely  have  so 
canonized  him  in  her  imagination  as  to 
have  doubted  of  her  own  fitness  to  con¬ 
sort  hereafter  with  a  soul  so  holy !  It 
may  be  said,  that  Yittoria  did  not  know 
her  husband  as  we  know  him  ;  that  the 
few  years  they  had  passed  together  had 
no  doubt  shown  her  only  the  better 


142 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


phases  of  his  character.  But  she  knew 
that  he  had  at  least  doubted  whether 
he  should  not  be  false  to  his  sovereign, 
and  had  been  most  infamously  so  to  his 
accomplices  or  dupes.  She  knew  at 
least  all  that  Giovio’s  narrative  could 
tell  her  ;  for  the  bishop  presented  it  to 
her,  and  received  a  sonnet  in  return. 

But  it  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
properties  of  woman’s  nature,  some 
men  say,  that  their  love  has  power  to 
blind  their  judgment.  Novelists  and 
poets  are  fond  of  representing  women 
whose  affections  remain  unalterably 
fixed  on  their  object,  despite  the  mani¬ 
fest  unworthiness  of  it ;  and  set  such 
examples  before  us,  as  something  high, 
noble,  admirable,  “  beautiful ;  ”  to  the 
considerable  demoralization  of  their 
confiding  students  of  either  sex.  There 
is  a  tendency  in  woman  to  refuse  at  all 
risks  the  dethroning:  of  the  sovereign 
she  has  placed  on  her  heart’s  throne. 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


143 


The  pain  of  deposing  him  is  so  great, 
that  she  is  tempted  to  abase  her  own 
soul  to  escape  it ;  for  it  is  only  at  that 
cost  that  it  can  be  escaped.  And  the 
spectacle  of  a  fine  nature  “  dragged 
down  to  sympathize  with  clay,’5  is 
not  u  beautiful,”  but  exceedingly  the 
reverse.  Men  do  not  usually  set  forth 
as  worthy  of  admiration — though  a 
certain  school  of  writers  do  even  this, 
in  the  trash  talked  of  love  at  first  sight 
— that  kind  of  love  between  the  sexes, 
which  arises  from  causes  wholly  inde¬ 
pendent  of  the  higher  part  of  our 
nature.  Yet  it  is  that  love  alone  which 
can  survive  esteem.  And  it  is  highly 
important  to  the  destinies  of  woman, 
that  she  should  understand  and  be 
thoroughly  persuaded,  that  she  cannot 
love  that  which  does  not  merit  love, 
without  degrading  her  own  nature  ; 
that  under  whatsoever  circumstances 
love  should  cease  when  respect,  appro- 


144 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


bation,  and  esteem  have  come  to  an 
end ;  and  that  those  who  find  poetry 
and  beauty  in  the  love  which  no  moral 
change  in  its  object  can  kill,  are  simply 
teaching  her  to  attribute  a  fatally  debas¬ 
ing  supremacy  to  those  lower,  instincts 
of  our  nature,  on  whose  due  subordina¬ 
tion  to  the  diviner  portion  of  our  be¬ 
ing  all  nobleness,  all  moral  purity  and 
spiritual  progress  depends. 

Vittoria  Colonna  was  not  one  whose 
intellectual  and  moral  self  had  thus 
abdicated  its  sceptre.  The  texture  of 
her  mind  and  its  habits  of  thought  for¬ 
bid  the  supposition ;  and,  bearing  this 
in  mind,  it  becomes  wholly  impossible 
to  accept  the  glorification  of  her  “  bel 
sole/’  which  makes  the  staple  of  the 
first  half  of  her  poems,  as  the  sincere 
expression  of  genuine  feeling  and  opin¬ 
ion. 

She  was  probably  about  as  much  in 
earnest  as  was  her  great  model  and 


Vittorio,  Qolonna. 


145 


master,  Petrarch,  in  his  adoration  of 
Laura.  The  poetical  mode  of  the  day 
was  almost  exclusively  Petrarchist; 
and  the  abounding  Castalian  fount  of 
that  half  century  in  u  the  land  of 
song,”  played  from  its  thousand  jets 
little  else  than  Petrarch  and  water  in 
different  degrees  of  dilution.  Vittoria 
has  no  claim  to  be  excepted  from  the 
“  servum  pecus,”  though  her  imitation 
has  more  of  self-derived  vigor  to  sup¬ 
port  it.  And  this  assumption  of  a 
mighty,  undying,  exalted  and  hope¬ 
less  passion,  was  a  necessary  part  of 
the  poet’s  professional  appurtenances. 
Where  could  a  young  and  beautiful 
widow,  of  unblemished  conduct,  who 
had  no  intention  of  changing  her  con¬ 
dition,  and  no  desire  to  risk  miscon¬ 
struction  by  the  world,  find  this  need¬ 
ful  part  of  her  outfit  as  a  poet,  so  un¬ 
objectionable  as  in  the  memory  of  her 
husband,  sanctified  and  exalted  by 
13 


146 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


the  imagination  to  the  point  proper  for 
the  purpose. 

For  want  of  a  deeper  spiritual  insight, 
and  a  larger  comprehension  of  the  finer 
affections  of  the  human  heart  and  the 
manifestations  of  them,  with  the  Ital¬ 
ian  poets  of  the  “  renaissance,”  love- 
poetry  was  little  else  than  the  expres¬ 
sion  of  passion  in  the  most  restricted 
sense  of  the  term.  But  they  were 
often  desirous  of  elevating,  purifying, 
and  spiritualizing  their  theme.  And 
how  was  this  to  be  accomplished  ? 
The  gratification  of  passion,  such  as  they 
painted,  would,  they  felt,  have  led  them 
quite  in  a  different  direction  from  that 
they  were  seeking.  A  hopeless  passion, 
therefore,  one  whose  wishes  the  reader 
was  perfectly  to  understand  were  never 
destined  to  be  gratified — better  still, 
one  by  the  nature  of  things  impossible 
to  be  gratified — this  was  the  contrivance 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


147 


by  which  love  was  to  be  poetized  and 
moralized. 

The  passion-poetry,  which  addressed 
itself  to  the  memory  of  one  no  more, 
met  the  requirements  of  the  case  exact¬ 
ly  ;  and  Vittoria’s  ten  years’  despair 
and  lamentations,  her  apotheosis  of  the 
late  cavalry  captain,  and  longing  to 
rejoin  him,  must  be  regarded  as  poeti¬ 
cal  properties  brought  out  for  use, 
when  she  sat  down  to  make  poetry  for 
the  perfectly  self-conscious,  though 
very  laudable  purpose  of  acquiring  for 
herself  a  poet’s  reputation. 

But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that 
any  thing  in  the  nature  of  hypocrisy 
was  involved  in  the  assumption  of  the 
poetical  role  of  inconsolable  widow. 
Everybody  understood  that  the  poet¬ 
ess  was  only  making  poetry,  and  say¬ 
ing  the  usual  and  proper  things  for 
that  purpose.  She  was  no  more  at¬ 
tempting  to  impose  on  anybody  than 


148 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


was  a  poet  when  on  entering  some 
“  academia”  he  termed  himself  Tyrtseus 
or  Lycidas,  instead  of  the  name  inher¬ 
ited  from  his  father. 

And  from  this  prevailing  absence  of 
all  real  and  genuine  feeling,  arises  the 
utter  coldness  and  shallow  insipidity  of 
the  poets  of  that  time  and  school.  Lit¬ 
erature  has  probably  few  more  unread¬ 
able  departments  than  the  productions 
of  the  Petrarchists  of  the  beginning  of 
the  sixteenth  century. 

Vittoria,  when  she  began  to  write  on 
religious  subjects,  was  more  in  earnest; 
and  the  result,  as  we  shall  see,  is 
accordingly  improved. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


149 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Vittoria  in  Rome  in  1530. — Antiquarian  rambles. — Pyramus 
and  Thisbe  medal.— Contemporary  commentary  on  Vit- 
toria’s  poems. — Paul  the  Third. — Rome  again  in  1536. — 
Visit  to  Lucca. — To  Ferrara. — Protestant  tendencies. — In¬ 
vitation  from  G-iberto. — Return  to  Rome. 

The  noble  rivalry  of  Francis  I.  and 
Charles  V.  was  again,  in  1530,  making 
Naples  a  field  of  glory  in  such  sort, 
that  outraged  nature  appeared  also  on 
the  scene  with  pestilence  in  her  hand. 
The  first  infliction  had  driven  most  of 
the  literary  society  in  Naples  to  take 
refuge  in  the  comparative  security  of 
Ischia.  The  latter  calamity  had  reach¬ 
ed  even  that  retreat ;  and  Vittoria  some 
time  in  that  year  again  visited  Rome. 

13* 


150 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


Life  was  beginning  there  to  return 
to  its  usual  conditions  after  the  tremen¬ 
dous  catastrophe  of  1527.  Pestilence 
had  there  also,  as  usual,  followed  in  the 
train  of  war  and  military  license.  And 
many  in  all  classes  had  been  its  victims. 
Great  numbers  fled  from  the  city,  and 
among  these  were  probably  most  of 
such  as  were  honored  by  Vittoria’s 
personal  friendship.  Now  they  were 
venturing  back  to  their  old  haunts  on 
the  Pincian,  the  Quirinal,  or  those  fa¬ 
vorite  Colonna  gardens,  still  ornament¬ 
ed  by  the  ruins  of  Aurelian’s  Temple 
to  the  Sun.  The  tide  of  modern  Goths, 
who  had  threatened  to  make  the  eternal 
city’s  name  a  mockery,  had  been  swept 
back  at  the  word  of  that  second  and 
u  most  Catholic  ”  Alaric,  Charles  V. 
Cardinals,  poetasters,  wits,  Ciceronian 
bishops,  statesmen,  ambassadors,  and. 
artists,  busy  in  the  achievement  of  im¬ 
mortality,  were  once  more  forming  a 


> 


T r it  tori  a  C olonna . 


151 


society,  which  gave  the  Rome  of  that 
day  a  fair  title  to  be  considered,  in 
some  points  of  view,  the  capital  of 
the  world.  The  golden  Roman  sun¬ 
light  was  still  glowing  over  aqueduct, 
arch  and  temple  ;  and  Rome  the  Eter¬ 
nal  was  herself  again. 

By  this  varied  and  distinguished  so¬ 
ciety  Yittoria  was  received  with  open 
arms.  The  Colonna  family  had  be¬ 
come  reconciled  to  Pope  Clement,  and 
had  had  their  fiefs  restored  to  them  ;  so 
that  there  was  no  cloud  on  the  political 
horizon  to  prevent  the  celebrated  Mar- 
chesana  from  receiving  the  homage  of 
all  parties.  The  Marchese  del  Yasto, 
Yittoria’s  former  pupil,  for  whom  she 
never  ceased  to  feel  the  warmest  affec¬ 
tion,  was.  also  then  at  Rome.1  In  his 
company,  and  that  of  some  others  ot 
the  gifted  knot  around  her,  Yittoria 
visited  the  ruins  and  vestiges  of  ancient 


i  Lettcre  di  Bembo,  vol.  i.,  p.  115,  ed.  1560. 


152 


Vittorio  Colonna. 


Rome  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  one 
deeply  versed  in  classic  lore,  and 
thoroughly  imbued  with  the  then  pre¬ 
vailing  admiration  for  the  works  and 
memorials  of  Pagan  antiquity.  Yittoria’s 
sister-in-law,  Donna  Giovanna  d’Ara- 
gona,  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
wife  of  her  brother  Ascanio,  in  whose 
house  she  seems  to  have  been  living 
during  this  visit  to  Rome,  was  doubtless 
one  of  the  party  on  these  occasions. 
The  poet  Molza  has  chronicled  his 
presence  among  them  in  more  than  one 
sonnet.  His  muse  would  seem  to  have 
“  made  increment  of  any  thing.”  For 
no  less  than  four  sonnets1  were  the  re¬ 
sult  of  the  exclamation  from  Yittoria, 
“  Ah,  happy  they  ’--the  ancients,  “  who 
lived  in  days  so  full  of  beauty  !  ”  Of 
course,  various  pretty  things  were  ob¬ 
tainable  out  of  this.  Among  others,  we 
have  the  gallant  Pagans  responding  to 


1  Edit.  Serassi,  pp.  14, 15, 87,  40. 


I 


Vittoria  Colonna.  153 

the  lady’s  ejaculation,  that  on  the  con¬ 
trary  their  time  was  less  fortunate  than 
the  present,  in  that  it  was  not  blessed 
by  the  sight  of  her. 

It  would  have  been  preferable  to 
have  had  preserved  for  us  some  further 
scraps  from  the  lips  of  Vittoria,  while 
the  little  party  gazed  at  sunset  over 
that  matchless  view  of  the  aqueduct- 
bestridden  Campagna  from  the  terrace 
at  the  western  front  of  the  Lateran, 
looked  up  at  the  Colosseum,  ghostly  in 
the  moonlight,  from  the  arch  of  Titus, 
or  discoursed  on  the  marvellous  pro¬ 
portions  of  the  Pantheon. 

But  history  rarely  guesses  aright 
what  the  after-ages  she  works  for  would 
most  thank  her  for  handing  down  to 
them.  And  we  must  be  content  to  con¬ 
struct  for  ourselves,  as  best  we  may, 
from  the  stray  hints  we  have,  the  sin¬ 
gularly  pleasing  picture  of  these  six¬ 
teenth  century  rambles  among  the 


154 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


ruins  of  Rome  by  as  remarkable  a  com¬ 
pany  of  pilgrims  as  any  of  the  thousands 
who  have  since  trodden  in  their  steps. 

Vittoria’s  visit  to  Rome  upon  this 
occasion  was  a  short  one.  It  was  prob¬ 
ably  early  in  the  following  year  that 
she  returned  to  Ischia.  Signor  Vis¬ 
conti  attributes  this  journey  to  the 
restlessness  arising  from  a  heart  ill  at 
ease,  vainly  hoping  to  find  relief  from 
its  misery  by  change  of  place.  He  as¬ 
sumes  all  the  expressions  of  despair  to 
be  found  in  her  sonnets  of  this  period, 
to  be  so  many  reliable  autobiographical 
documents,  and  builds  his  narrative 
upon  them  accordingly.  To  this  period 
he  attributes  the  sonnet,  translated  in  a 
previous  chapter,  in  which  the  poetess 
declares  that  she  has  no  wish  to  conceal 
from  the  world  the  temptation  to  sui¬ 
cide  which  assails  her.  And  in  com¬ 
memoration  of  this  mood  of  mind,  he 
adds,  in  further  proof  of  the  sad  truth, 


Vittoria  G olonna . 


155 


a  medal  was  struck  upon  this  occasion, 
in  Rome  of  which  he  gives  an  engrav¬ 
ing.  It  represents,  on  one -side,  the  in¬ 
consolable  lady  as  a  handsome,  well- 
nourished,  comfortable-looking  widow, 
in  mourning  weeds,  more  aged  in  ap¬ 
pearance,  certainly,  since  the  striking 
of  the  former  medal  spoken  of,  than 
the  lapse  of  seven  years  would  seem 
sufficient  to  account  for.  And,  on  the 
reverse,  is  a  representation  of  the  mel¬ 
ancholy  story  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe, 
the  former  lying  dead  at  the  feet  of  the 
typical  paragon,  who  is  pointing  to¬ 
wards  her  breast  a  sword,  grasped  in 
both  hands,  half-way  down  the  blade, 
in  a  manner  sure  to  have  cut  her  fin¬ 
gers.  The  two  sides  of  the  medal, 
seen  at  one  glance,  as  in  Signor  Vis¬ 
conti’s  engraving,  are,  it  must  be  ad¬ 
mitted,  calculated  to  give  rise  to  ideas 
the  reverse  of  pathetic. 

To  this  period  too  belongs  the  sonnet, 


156 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


also  previously  alluded  to,  in  which 
Vittoria  speaks  of  the  seventh  year  of 
her  bereavement  having  arrived,  with¬ 
out  bringing  with  it  any  mitigation  of 
her  woe.  Signor  Visconti  takes  this 
for  simple  autobiographical  material. 
It  is  curious,  as  a  specimen  of  the 
modes  of  thought  at  the  time,  to  see 
how  the  same  passage  is  handled  by 
Vittoria’s  first  editor  and  commenta¬ 
tor,  Rinaldo  Corsi,  who  published  her 
works  for  the  second  time  at  Venice  in 
1558.  His  commentary  begins  as  fol¬ 
lows  : — “  On  this  sonnet,  it  remains  for 
me  to  speak  of  the  number  Seven  as  I 
have  done  already  of  the  number  Four. 
But  since  Varro,  Macrobius,  and  Aulus 
Gellius,  together  with  many  others, 
have  treated  largely  of  the  subject,  I 
will  only  add  this, — which,  perhaps, 
Ladies,  may  appear  to  you  somewhat 
strange  ;  that,  according  to  Hippocra¬ 
tes,  the  number  four  enters  twice  into 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


157 


the  number  seven  ;  and  I  find  it  stated 
by  most  credible*  authors  as  a  certain 
fact,  and  proved  by  the  testimony  of 
their  own  observation,  that  a  male  child 
of  seven  years  old  has  been  known  to 
cure  persons  atfiicted  by  the  infirmity 
called  scrofula  by  no  other  means  than 
by  the  hidden  virtue  of  that  number 
seven,”  &c.,  &c.,  &c. 

In  this  sort,  Messer  Rinaldo  Corso 
composed,  and  the  literary  ladies,  to 
whom  throughout,  as  in  the  above  pas¬ 
sage,  his  labors  are  especially  dedicated, 
must  be  supposed  to  have  read  more 
than  five  hundred  close-printed  pages 
of  commentary  on  the  works  of  the 
celebrated  poetess,  who,  in  all  proba¬ 
bility,  when  she  penned  the  sonnet  in 
question,  had  no  more  intention  of  set¬ 
ting  forth  the  reasons  for  her  return  to 
Ischia,  than  she  had  of  alluding  to  the 
occult  properties  of  the  mysterious 
number  seven.  The  natural  supposition 
14 


158 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


is,  that  as  she  had  been  driven  from  her 
home  by  the  pestilence,  she  returned 
to  it  when  that  reason  for  absence  was 
at  an  end. 

There  she  seems  to  have  remained 
tranquilly  employed  on  her  favorite 
pursuits,  increasing  her  already  great 
reputation,  and  corresponding  assidu¬ 
ously  with  all  the  best  and  most  dis¬ 
tinguished  men  of  Italy,  whether  lay¬ 
men  or  ecclesiastics,  till  the  year  1536. 

In  that  year  she  again  visited  Rome, 
and  resided  during  her  stay  there  with 
Donna  Giovanna  d’Aragona,  her  sister- 
in-law.  Raul  III.,  Farnese,  had  in  1534 
succeeded  Clement  in  the  chair  of  St. 
Peter  ;  and  though  Paul  was  on  many 
accounts  very  far  from  being  a  good 
Pope  or  a  good  priest,  yet  the  Farnese 
was  an  improvement  on  the  Medici. 
As  ever,  Rome  began  to  show  signs  of 
improvement  when  danger  to  her  sys¬ 
tem  from  without  began  to  make  itself 


Vitt  oria  C olonna . 


159 


felt.  Paul  seems  very  soon  to  have 
become  convinced  that  the  general 
council,  which  had  been  so  haunting  a 
dread  to  Clement  during  the  whole  of 
his  pontificate,  could  no  longer  be 
avoided.  But  it  was  still  hoped  in  the 
council  chambers  of  the  Vatican,  that 
the  doctrinal  difficulties  of  the  German 
reformers,  which  threatened  the  Church 
with  so  fatal  a  schism,  might  be  got 
over  by  conciliation  and  dexterous 
theological  diplomacy.  As  soon  as  it 
became  evident  that  this  hope  was  vain, 
fear  began  to  influence  the  papal  policy, 
and  at  its  bidding  the  ferocious  perse¬ 
cuting  bigotry  of  Paul  IV.  was  con¬ 
trasted  with  the  shameless  profligacy 
of  Alexander,  the  epicurean  indiffer- 
entism  of  Leo,  and  the  pettifogging 
worldliness  of  Clement. 

Between  these  two  periods  came 
Paul  III.,  and  the  illusory  hopes  that 
the  crisis  might  be  tided  over  by  find- 


16&  Vi  ttoria  Colonna. 

ing  some  arrangement  of  terminology, 
which  should  satisfy  the  reformers, 
while  Rome  should  abandon  no  particle 
ot  doctrine  on  which  any  vital  portion 
ol  her  system  of  temporal  power  was 
based.  To  meet  the  exigencies  of  this 
period,  Paul  III.  signalized  his  acces¬ 
sion  by  raising  to  the  purple  a  number 
of  the  most  earnest,  most  learned,  and 
truly  devout  men  in  Italy.  Contarini, 
the  Yenetian;  Caraffa,  from  Naples; 
Sadoleto,  Bishop  of  Carpentras ;  Pole, 
then  a  fugitive  from  England  ;  Giberti, 
Bishop  of  Yerona  ;  and  Fregoso,  Arch¬ 
bishop  of  Salerno,  were  men  chosen 
solely  on  account  of  their  eminent 
merit. 

With  most,  if  not  all  of  these,  Yit- 
toria  was  connected  by  the  bonds  of 
intimate  friendship.  With  Contarini, 
Sadoleto,  and  Pole,  especially,  she  cor¬ 
responded  ;  and  the  esteem  felt  for  her 
by  such  men  is  the  most  undeniable 


V'ittoria  C olo  nna . 


161 


testimony  to  the  genuine  worth  of  her 
character.  It  is  easy  to  imagine,  there¬ 
fore,  how  warm  a  reception  awaited 
her  arrival  on  this  occasion  in  Home, 
and  how  delightful  must  have  been  her 
stay  there.  She  had  now  reached  the 
full  measure  of  her  reputation.  The 
religious  and  doctrinal  topics  which 
were  now  occupying  the  best  minds  in 
Italy,  and  on  which  her  thoughts  were 
frequently  busied  in  her  correspond¬ 
ence  with  such  men  as  those  named 
above,  had  recently  begun  to  form  the 
subject-matter  of  her  poems.  And 
their  superiority  in  vigor  and  earnest¬ 
ness  to  her  earlier  works,  must  have 
been  perfectly  apparent  to  her  rever¬ 
end  and  learned  friends. 

Accordingly,  we  are  told  that  her 
stay  in  Rome  on  this  occasion  was  a 
continued  ovation;  and  Signor  Yisconti 
informs  us,  on  the  authority  of  the 
Neapolitan  historian  Gregorio  Rosso, 


14* 


162 


Vittorio,  C olonna . 


that  Charles  Y.  being  then  in  Rome, 
“  condescended  to  visit  in  their  own 
house  the  ladies  Giovanna  di’Aragona, 
wife  of  Ascanio  Colonna,  and  Vittoria 
Colonna,  Marchesa  di  Pescara.” 

The  following  year,  1537  that  is,  she 
went,  Yisconti  says,  to  Lucca,  from 
which  city  she  passed  to  Ferrara, 
arriving  there  on  the  8th  of  April,  u  in 
humble  guise,  with  six  waiting-women 
only.”  1  Ercole  d’Este,  the  second  of 
the  name,  was  then  the  reigning  duke, 
having  succeeded  to  his  father  Alplion- 
so  in  1534.  And  the  court  of  Fer¬ 
rara,  which  had  been  for  several  years 
pre-eminent  among  the  principalities 
of  Italy  for  its  love  of  literature  and 
its  patronage  of  literary  men,  became 
yet  more  notably  so  in  consequence 
of  the  marriage  of  Hercules  II.  with 
Renee  of  France,  the  daughter  of 
Louis  XII.  The  Protestant  tendencies 


1  Mem.  per  la  St.  di  Ferrara,  di  Antonia  Frizzi,  vol.  iv.  p.  338. 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


163 


and  sympathies  of  this  Princess  had 
rendered  Ferrara  also  the  resort,  and 
in  some  instances  the  refuge,  of  many 
professors  and  favorers  of  the  new 
ideas  which  were  begining  to  stir  the 
mind  of  Italy.  And  though  Vittoria’s 
orthodox  Catholic  biographers  are 
above  all  things  anxious  to  clear  her 
from  all  suspicion  of  having  ever  held 
opinions  eventually  condemned  by  the 
Church,  there  is  every  reason  to  be¬ 
lieve  that  her  journey  to  Ferrara  was 
prompted  by  the  wish  to  exchange 
ideas  upon  these  subjects  with  some  ot 
those  leading  minds  which  were  known 
to  have  imbibed  Protestant  tendencies, 
if  not  to  have  acquired  fully-formed 
Protestant  .convictions.  It  is  abun¬ 
dantly  clear,  from  the  character  ot  her 
friendships,  from  her  correspondence, 
and  from  the  tone  ol  her  poetry  at  this 
period,  and  during  the  remainder  ot 
her  life,  that  her  mind  was  absorbingly 


164 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


occupied  with  topics  of  this  nature. 
And  the  short  examination  of  the  latter 
division  of  her  works,  which  it  is  pro¬ 
posed  to  attempt  in  the  next  chapter, 
will  probably  convince  such  as  have  no 
partisan  Catholic  feelings  on  the  sub¬ 
ject,  that  Yittoria’s  mind  had  made 
very  considerable  progress  in  the  Prot¬ 
estant  direction. 

No  reason  is  assigned  for  her  stay  at 
Lucca.  Yisconti,  with  unusual  brevity 
and  dryness,  merely  states  that  she  vis¬ 
ited  that  city.1  And  it  is  probable 
that  lie  has  not  been  able  to  discover 
any  documents  directly  accounting  for 
the  motives  of  her  visit.  But  he  for 
bears  to  mention  that  the  new  opinions 
had  gained  so  much  ground  there  that 
that  Republic  was  very  near  declaring 
Protestantism  the  religion  of  their 
state.  After  her  totally  unaccounted- 
for  visit  to  the  heresy-stricken  city,  she 


*  Vita.,  p.  cxiii. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


165 


proceeds  to  another  almost  equally 
tainted  with  suspicion. 

It  is  no  donbt  perfectly  true  that 
Duke  Hercules  and  his  court  received 
her  with  every  possible  distinction  on 
the  score  of  her  poetical  celebrity,  and 
deemed  his  city  honored  by  her  pres¬ 
ence.  He  invited,  we  are  told,  the  most 
distinguished  poets  and  men  of  letters 
of  Venice  and  Lombardy  to  meet  her 
at  Ferrara.  And  so  much  was  her  visit 
prized  that  when  Cardinal  Giberto  sent 
thither  his  secretary,  Francesco  della 
Torre,  to  persuade  her  to  visit  his  epis¬ 
copal  city  Verona,  that  ambassador 
wrote  to  his  friend  Bembo,  at  Venice, 
that  he  “  had  like  to  have  been  banished 
by  the  Duke,  and  stoned  by  the  people 
for  coming  there  with  the  intention  of 
robbing  Ferrara  of  its  most  precious 
treasure,  for  the  purpose  of  enriching 
Verona/’  Vittoria,  however,  seems  to 
have  held  out  some  hope  that  she  might 


166 


Vittoria  Oolonna. 


be  induced  to  visit  Yerona.  For  the 
secretary,  continuing  his  letter  to  the 
literary  Venetian  cardinal,  says,  u  Who 
knows  but  what  we  may  succeed  in 
making  reprisal  on  them  ?  And  if  that 
should  come  to  pass,  I  should  hope  to 
see  your  Lordship  more  frequently  in 
Yerona,  as  I  should  see  Yerona  the 
most  honored  as  well  as  the  most  envied 
city  in  Italy.”  1 

It  is  impossible  to  have  more  striking 
testimony  to  the  fame  our  poetess  had 
achieved  by  her  pen;  and  it  is  a  fea¬ 
ture  of  the  age  and  clime  well  worth 
noting,  that  a  number  of  small  states, 
divided  by  hostilities  and  torn  by  war¬ 
fare,  should  have,  nevertheless,  pos 
sessed  among  them  a  republic  of  letters 
capable  of  conferring  a  celebrity  so  cor¬ 
dially  acknowledged  throughout  the 
whole  extent  of  Italy. 

1  Letter  dated  11th  September,  153T,  from  Bembo’s  Corre 
epondence,  cited  by  Visconti,  p.  cxv. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


m 


From  a  letter1  written  by  Vittoria 
to  Giangiorgio  Trissino  of  Vicenza,  the 
author  of  an  almost  forgotten  epic,  en¬ 
titled  u  Italia  liberata  da  Goti,”  bearing 
date  the  10th  of  January  (1537),  we 
learn  that  she  found  the  climate  of  Fer¬ 
rara  “  unfavorable  to  her  indisposition 
which  would  seem  to  imply  a  continu¬ 
ance  of  ill-health.  Yet  it  was  at  this 
time  that  she  conceived  the  idea  of  un¬ 
dertaking  a  journey  to  the  Holy  Land.3 
Her  old  pupil,  and  nearly  life-long 
friend,  the  Marchese  del  Vasto,  came 
from  Milan  to  Ferrara,  to  dissuade  her 
from  the  project.  And  with  this  view, 
as  well  as  to  remove  her  from  the  air 
of  Ferrara,  he  induced  her  to  return 
to  Home,  where  her  arrival  was  again 
made  a  matter  of  almost  public  re¬ 
joicing. 

The  date  of  this  journey  was  proba¬ 
bly  about  the  end  of  1537.  The  society 


Visconti,  p.  cxiv. 


2  Visconti,  p.  cxvi. 


168 


Yittoria  Colonna. 


of  the  Eternal  City,  especially  of  that 
particular  section  of  it  which  made  the 
world  of  Yittoria,  was  in  a  happy  and 
hopeful  mood.  The  excellent  Contarini 
had  not  yet  departed1  thence  on  his 
mission  of  conciliation  to  the  Confer¬ 
ence,  which  had  been  arranged  with 
the  Protestant  leaders  at  Iiatisbon. 
The  brightest  and  most  cheering  hopes 
were  based  on  a  total  misconception  of 
the  nature,  or  rather  on  an  entire  igno¬ 
rance  of  the  existence  of  that  under¬ 
current  of  social  change,  which,  to  the 
north  of  the  Alps,  made  the  reformatory 
movement  something  infinitely  greater, 
more  fruitful  of  vast  results,  and  more 
inevitable,  than  any  scholastic  dispute 
on  points  of  theologic  doctrine.  And 
at  the  time  of  Yittoria’s  arrival,  that 
little  band  of  pure,  amiable,  and  high- 
minded,  but  not  large-minded  men,  who 


1  lie  left  Koine  11th  November,  1538.  Letter  from  Con 
umni  to  Pole,  cited  by  Ranke.  Austin’s  trans.,  voL  i.  p.  152. 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


169 


fondly  hoped  that,  by  the  amendment 
of  some  practical  abuses,  and  a  mutually 
forbearing  give-and-take  arrangement 
of  some  nice  questions  of  metaphysical 
theology,  peace  on  earth  and  good-will 
among  men,  might  yet  be  made  com¬ 
patible  with  the  undiminished  preten¬ 
sions  and  theory  of  an  universal  and 
infallible  Church,  were  still  lapped  in 
the  happiness  of  their  day-dream.  Of 
this  knot  of  excellent  men,  which  com¬ 
prised  all  that  was  best,  most  amiable, 
and  most  learned  in  Italy,  Vittoria  was 
the  disciple,  the  friend,  and  the  inspired 
Muse.  The  short  examination  of  her 
religious  poetry,  therefore,  which  wTill 
be  the  subject  of  the  next  chapter,  will 
not  only  open  to  us  the  deepest  and 
most  earnest  part  of  her  own  mind,  but 
will,  in  a  measure,  illustrate  the  extent 
and  nature  of  the  Protestantizing  tend¬ 
encies  then  manifesting  themselves  in 
Italy. 


15 


Vittorio,  Colonna 


170 


t 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Oratory  of  Divine  Love. — Italian  Reformers. — Their  tenets. 
— Consequence  of  the  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith. — 
Fear  of  Schism  in  Italy. — Orthodoxy  of  Yittoria  questioned. 
— Proofs  of  her  Protestantism  from  her  writings. — Calvin¬ 
ism  of  her  Sonnets. — Remarkable  passage  against  Auricu¬ 
lar  Confession. — Controversial  and  religious  Sonnets. — 
Absence  from  the  Sonnets  of  moral  topics. — Specimen  of 
her  poetical  power. — Romanist  ideas. — Absence  from  the 
Sonnets  of  all  patriotic  feeling. 

The  extreme  corruption  of  the  Italian 
church,  and  in  some  degree  also  the 
influence  of  German  thought,  had  even 
as  early  as  the  Pontificate  of  Leo  X., 
led  several  of  the  better  minds  in  Italy 
to  desire  ardently  some  means  of  re¬ 
ligious  reform.  A  contemporary  writer 
cited  by  Ranke,1  tells  us  that  in  Leo's 

1  Caracciolo,  Vita  di  Paolo  4,  MS.  Ranke,  Popes,  vol.  i. 
o  186,  edit.  cit. 


I T itt or i a  Colonna. 


171 


time  some  fifty  or  sixty  earnest  and 
pious  men  formed  themselves  into  a 
society  at  Rome,  which  they  called  the 
u  Oratory  of  Divine  Love,”  and  strove 
by  example  and  preaching  to  stem  as 
much  as  in  them  lay  the  tide  of  profli¬ 
gacy  and  infidelity.  Among  these  men 
wTere  Contarini,  the  learned  and  saint¬ 
like  Venetian,  Sadolet,  Giberto,  Caraffa 
‘  (a  man,  who,  however  earnest  in  his 
piety,  showed  himself  at  a  later  period, 
when  he  became  pope  as  Paul  IY.,  to 
be  animated  with  a  very  different  spirit 
from  that  of  most  of  his  fellow-religion¬ 
ists,)  Gaetano,  Thiene,  who  was  after¬ 
wards  canonized,  &c.  But  in  almost  ev¬ 
ery  part  of  Italy,  not  less  than  in  Rome, 
there  were  men  of  the  same  stamp,  who 
carried  the  new  ideas  to  greater  or 
lesser  lengths,  were  the  objects  of  more 
or  less  ecclesiastical  censure  and  perse¬ 
cution  ;  and  who  died,  some  reconciled 


172 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


to,  and  some  excommunicated  by  the 
Church  they  so  vainly  strove  to  amend. 

In  Naples,  Juan  Valdez,  a  Spaniard, 
Secretary  to  the  Viceroy,  warmly  em¬ 
braced  the  new  doctrines  ;  and  being 
a  man  much  beloved,  and  of  great  in¬ 
fluence,  he  drew  many  converts  to  the 
cause.  It  was  a  pupil  and  friend  of 
his,  whose  name  it  has  been  vainly 
sought  to  ascertain,  who  composed  the- 
celebrated  treatise,  “  On  the  Benefits 
ot  the  Death  of  Christ,”  which  was 
circulated  in  immense  numbers  over 
the  whole  of  Italy,  and  exercised  a  very 
powerful  influence.  A  little  later,- 
when  the  time  of  inquisitorial  persecu 
tion  came,  this  book  was  so  vigorously 
proscribed,  sought  out  and  destroyed, 
that  despite  the  vast  number  of  copies 
which  must  have  existed  in  every  cor¬ 
ner  of  Italy,  it  has  utterly  disappeared, 
and  not  one  is  known  to  be  in  exist- 


V'ittoria  Colonna. 


173 


ence.1  It  is  impossible  to  have  a  more 
striking  proof  of  the  violent  and 
searching  nature  of  the  persecution 
under  Paul  IY.  Another  friend  of 
Yaldez,  who  was  also  intimate  with 
Yittoria,  was  Marco  Flaminio,  who  re¬ 
vised  the  treatise  “  On  the  Benefits  of 
Christ’s  Death.” 

In  Modena,  the  Bishop  Morone,  the 
intimate  friend  of  Pole  and  Contarini, 
and  his  chaplain,  Don  Girolamo  de 
Modena,  supported  and  taught  the 
same  opinions. 

In  Yenice,  Gregorio  Cortese,  Abbot 
of  San  Giorgio  Maggiore,  Luigi  Priuli, 
a  patrician,  and  the  Benedictine  Marco, 
of  Padna,  formed  a  society  mainly  oc¬ 
cupied  in  discussing  the  subtle  ques¬ 
tions  which  formed  the  “symbolum” 
of  the  new  party. 

“If  we  inquire,”  says  Ranke,3  “  what 
was  the  faith  which  chiefly  inspired 

1  Eanke,  ed.  cit.,  vol.  i.  p.  217.  2  Ed.  cit.,  vol.  i.  p.  188. 

15* 


174 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


these  men,  we  shall  find  that  the  main 
article  of  it  was  that  same  doctrine  of 
justification,  which,  as  preached  by 
Luther,  had  given  rise  to  the  whole 
Protestant  movement.” 

The  reader  fortunate  enough  to  be 
wholly  unread  in  controversial  divinity, 
will  yet  probably  not  have  escaped 
hearing  of  the  utterly  interminable  dis¬ 
putes  on  justification,  free-will,  election, 
faith,  good  works,  prevenient  grace, 
original  sin,  absolute  decrees,  and  pre¬ 
destination,  which,  with  much  of  evil, 
and  as  yet  little  good  consequence, 
have  occupied  the  most  acute  intellects, 
and  most  learning-stored  brains  of 
Europe  for  the  last  three  centuries. 
Without  any  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  doctrines  repre¬ 
sented  by  these  familiar  terms  are  de¬ 
pendent  on,  and  necessitated  by  each 
other,  and  of  the  precise  points  on 
which  the  opposing  creeds  have  fought 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


175 


this  eternal  battle,  he  will  be  aware 
that  the  system  popularly  known  as 
Calvinism,  represents  the  side  of  the 
question  taken  by  the  reformers  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  while  the  opposite 
theory  of  justification  by  good  works 
was  that  held  by  the  orthodox  Catholic 
Church,  or  unreforming  party.  And  with 
merely  these  general  ideas  to  guide 
him,  it  will  appear  strangely  unaccount¬ 
able  to  find  all  the  best,  noblest  and 
purest  minds  adopting  a  system  which 
in  its  simplest  logical  development  in¬ 
evitably  leads  to  the  most  debasing  de- 
monolatry,  and  lays  the  axe  to  the  root 
of  all  morality  and  noble  action  ;  while 
the  corrupt,  the  worldly,  the  amb'- 
tious,  the  unspiritual,  the  unintellectua\ 
natures  that  formed  the  dominant  party, 
held  the  opposite  opinion,  apparently 
so  favorable  to  virtue. 

An  explanation  of  this  phenomenon 
by  a  partisan  of  either  school  would 


176  Vittoria  Oolonna, 

probably  be  long  and  somewhat  intri¬ 
cate.  But  the  matter  becomes  intel¬ 
ligible  enough,  and  the  true  key  to  the 
wishes  and  conduct  of  both  parties  is 
found,  if,  without  regarding  the  moral 
or  theological  results  of  either  scheme, 
or  troubling  ourselves  with  the  subtle¬ 
ties  by  which  either  side  sought  to  meet 
the  objections  of  the  other,  we  consider 
simply  the  bearings  of  the  new  doc¬ 
trines  on  that  ecclesiastical  system, 
which  the  orthodox  and  dominant  party 
were  determined  at  all  cost  to  support. 
If  it  were  admitted  that  man  is  justifi¬ 
able  by  faith  alone,  that  his  election  is 
a  matter  to  be  certified  to  his  own 
heart  by  the  immediate  operation  of 
the  Divine  Spirit,  it  would  follow  that 
the  whole  question  of  his  religious  con¬ 
dition  and  future  hopes  might  be,  or 
rather  must  be,  settled  between  him 
and  his  Creator  alone.  And  then  what 
would  become  of  ecclesiastical  authority 


m 


Vittorio,  Oolonna. 

and  priestly  interference  ?  If  the  only 
knowledge  possible  to  be  attained  of 
any  individual’s  standing  before  God, 
were  locked  in  bis  own  breast,  what 
hold  can  the  Church  have  on  him  ?  It 
is  absolutely  necessary  to  any  system 
of  spiritual  tyranny,  that  no  doctrine 
should  be  admitted  by  virtue  of  which 
a  layman  may  tell  a  priest  that  despite 
the  opinion  he,  the  priest,  may  form 
upon  the  subject,  he,  the  layman,  has 
the  assurance  of  acceptation  before 
God,  bv  means  of  evidence  of  a  nature 
inscrutable  to  the  priest.  Once  admit 
this,  and  the  whole  foundation  of  ec* 
clesiastical  domination  is  sapped.  Nay, 
by  a  very  logical  and  short  route,  sure 
to  be  soon  travelled  by  those  who  have 
made  good  this  first  fundamental  pre¬ 
tension,  they  would  arrive  at  the  ne¬ 
gation  and  abolition  of  all  priesthood. 
Preachers  and  teachers  might  still  have 
place  under  such  a  system,  but  not 


178 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


priests,  or  priestly  power.  To  this  an 
externally  ascertainable  religion  is  so 
vitally  necessary,  that  the  theory  of 
justification  by  good  works  was  far 
from  sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  the 
Catholic  priesthood,  as  long  as  good 
works  could  be  understood  to  mean  a 
general  course  of  not  very  accurately 
measurable  virtuous  living.  This  was 
not  sufficient,  because,  though  visible, 
not  sufficiently  tangible,  countable,  and 
tariffable.  Hence  the  good  works  most 
urgently  prescribed,  became  reduced 
to  that  mass  of  formal  practices  so  well 
known  as  the  material  of  Romanist 
piety,  among  which,  the  most  valuable 
for  the  end  in  view,  are  of  course  those 
which  can  only  be  performed  by  the 
intervention  of  a  priest. 

But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  all 
this  was  as  plainly  discerned  by  the 
combatants  in  that  confused  strife  as  it 
may  be  by  lookers  back  on  it  from  a 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


m 


vantage  ground  three  centuries  high. 
The  innovators  were  in  all  probability 
few,  if  any  of  them,  conscious  of  the 
extent  and  importance  of  the  principle 
they  were  fighting  for.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  is  no  reason  to  at¬ 
tribute  an  evil  consciousness  of  motives, 
such  as  those  nakedly  set  forth  above, 
to  the  conservative  party.  The  fact 
that  a  doctrine  would  tend  to  abridge 
Church  power  and  endanger  Church 
unity,  would  doubtless  have  appeared 
to  many  a  good  and  conscientious  man 
a  sufficient  proof  of  its  unsoundness  and 
falsity. 

Indeed,  even  among  the  reformers  in 
Italy  the  fear  of  schism  was  so  great, 
and  the  value  attached  to  Church  unity 
so  high,  that  these  considerations  pro¬ 
bably  did  as  much  towards  checking 
and  finally  extinguishing  Protestantism 
in  Italy  as  did  the  strong  hand  of  per¬ 
secution.  From  the  first,  many  of  the 


180 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


most  earnest  advocates  of  the  new  doc¬ 
trines  were  by  no  means  prepared  to 
sever  themselves  from  the  Church  for 
the  sake  of  their  opinions.  Some  were 
ready  to  face  such  schism  and  martyr¬ 
dom  also  in  the  cause  ;  as,  for  instance, 
Bernardino  Ochino,  the  General  of  the 
Capuchins,  and  the  most  powerful 
preacher  of  his  day,  who  fled  from 
Italy  and  became  a  professed  Protes¬ 
tant,  and  Carnesecchi,  the  Florentine, 
who  was  put  to  death  for  his  heresy  at 
Rome. 

But  it  had  not  yet  become  clear  how 
far  the  new  doctrines  might  be  held 
compatibly  with  perfect  community 
with  the  Church  of  Rome  at  the  time 
when  Vittoria  arrived  in  that  city  from 
Ferrara.  The  conference  with  the  Ger¬ 
man  Protestants,  by  means  of  which 
it  was  hoped  to  effect  a  reconciliation, 
was  then  being  arranged,  and  the  hopes 


I T  it  tori  a  Golonna. 


181 


of  Vittoria’s  friends  ran  high.  When 
these  hopes  proved  delusive,  and  when 
Rome  pronounced  herself  decisively 
on  the  doctrines  held  by  the  Italian 
reformers,  the  most  conspicuous  friends 
of  Vittoria  did  not  quit  the  Church. 
She  herself  writes  ever  as  its  submis¬ 
sive  and  faithful  daughter.  But  as 
to  her  having  held  opinions  which 
were  afterwards  declared  heretical, 
and  for  which  others  suffered,  much 
of  her  poetry,  written  probably  about 
this  time,  affords  evidence  so  clear, 
that  it  is  wonderful  Tiraboschi  and  her 
biographers  can  deem  it  possible  to 
maintain  her  orthodoxy. 

Take,  for  example,  the  following 
Bonnet : — 

“  Quand’  io  riguardo  il  nobil  raggio  ardente 
Della  grazia  divina,  e  quel  valore 
Ch’  illustra  ’1  intelletto,  infiamma  il  core 
Con  virtu’  sopr’  umana,  alta,  e  possente, 

L’  alma  le  voglie  allor  fisse  ed  intente 
Raccoglie  tutte  insieme  a  fargli  onore ; 

16 


182 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


Ma  tanto  ha  di  poter,  quant’  e  ’1  favore 
Che  dal  lume  e  dal  foco  intende  e  sente. 

Ond’  ella  pud  ben  far  certa  efficace 
L’  alta  sua  elezion,  ma  insino  al  segno 
Ch’  all  autor  d’ogni  ben,  sua  merce,  piace. 

Non  sprona  il  corso  nostro  industria  o  ingegno ; 
Quel  corre  piu  sicuro  e  piu  vivace, 

C’  ha  dal  favor  del  ciel  maggior  sostegno.” 

Thus  rendered  into  English  blank 
verse,  with  a  greater  closeness  to  the 
sense  of  the  original  than  might  per¬ 
haps  have  been  attained  in  a  transla¬ 
tion  hampered  by  the  necessity  of 
rhyming : — • 

“  When  I  reflect  on  that  bright  noble  ray 

Of  grace  divine,  and  on  that  mighty  power, 

Which  clears  the  intellect,  inflames  the  heart 
With  virtue,  strong  with  more  than  human  strength, 
My  soul  then  gathers  up  her  will,  intent 
To  render  to  that  Power  the  honor  due; 

But  only  so  much  can  she,  as  free  grace 
Gives  her  to  feel  and  know  th’  inspiring  fire. 

Thus  can  the  soul  her  high  election  make 
Fruitful  and  sure ;  but  only  to  such  point 
As,  in  his  goodness,  wills  the  Fount  of  good. 

Nor  art  nor  industry  can  speed  her  course ; 

He  most  securely  and  alertly  runs 

Who  most  by  Heaven’s  free  favor  is  upheld." 


Vittorio,  Colonna.  183 

The  leading  points  of  Calvinistic 
doctrine  could  hardly  be  in  the  limits 
of  a  sonnet  more  clearly  and  compre¬ 
hensively  stated.  Devotional  medita¬ 
tion  inclines  the  heart  to  God  ;  but  the 
soul  is  powerless  even  to  worship,  ex¬ 
cept  in  such  measure  as  she  is  enabled 
to  do  so  by  freely-given  grace.  By 
this  means  only  can  man  make  sure  his 
election.  To  strive  after  virtue  is  use¬ 
less  to  the  non-elect,  seeing  that  man 
can  safely  run  his  course  only  in  pro¬ 
portion  as  he  has  received  the  favor  of 
God. 

Again,  in  the  following  sonnet  will 
be  remarked  a  tone  of  thought  and 
style  of  phrase  perfectly  congenial  to 
modern  devotional  feeling  of  wdiat  is 
termed  the  evangelical  school ;  while 
it  is  assuredly  not  such  as  would  meet 
the  approval  of  orthodox  members  of 
either  the  Homan  Catholic  or  Anglo- 
Catholic  churches  : 


184 


Vittoria  C olonn a. 


“  Quando  dal  lume,  il  cui  vivo  splendore 
Rende  il  petto  fedel  lieto  e  sicuro, 

Si  dissolve  per  grazia  il  ghiaccio  duro, 

Che  sovente  si  gela  intorno  al  core, 

Sento  ai  bei  lampi  del  possente  ardore 
Cader  delle  mie  colpe  il  manto  oscuro, 

E  vestirmi  in  quel  punto  il  chiaro  e  puro 
Della  prima  innocenza  e  primo  amore. 

E  sebben  con  serrata  e  fida  ckiave 

Serro  quel  raggio ;  egli  e  scivo  e  sottile, 

Si  ch’  un  basso  pensier  lo  scaccia  e  sdegna. 
Ond’  ei  ratto  sen  vola;  io  mesta  e  grave 
Rimango,  e  ’1  prego  che  d’  ogni  ombra  vile 
Mi  spogli,  accio  piu  presto  a  me  sen  vegna.” 


Which  may  be  thus,  with  tolerable 
accuracy,  rendered  into  English  : — 


“  When  by  the  light,  whose  living  ray  both  peace 
And  joy  to  faithful  bosoms  doth  impart, 

The  indurated  ice,  around  the  heart 
So  often  gather’d,  is  dissolved  through  grace, 
Beneath  that  blessed  radiance  from  above 
Falls  from  me  the  dark  mantle  of  my  sin ; 
Sudden  I  stand  forth  pure  and  radiant  in 
The  garb  of  primal  innocence  and  love. 

And  though  I  strive  with  lock  and  trusty  key 
To  keep  that  ray,  so  subtle  ’tis  and  coy, 

By  one  low  thought  ’tis  scared  and  put  to  flight. 
So  flies  it  from  me.  I  in  sorrowing  plight 


Vittoria  Colo  nna. 


185 


Remain,  and  pray,  that  he  from  base  alloy 
May  purge  me,  so  the  light  come  sooner  back  to  me.” 

Here,  in  addition  to  the  u  points  of 
doctrine  laid  down  in  the  previous 
sonnet,  we  have  that  of  sudden  and  in* 
stantaneous  conversion  and  sanctifica¬ 
tion,  and  that  without  any  aid  from 
sacrament,  altar,  or  priest. 

Similar  thoughts  are  again  expressed 
in  the  next  sonnet  selected,  which  in 
Signor  Visconti’s  edition  immediately 
follows  the  preceding : — 

“Spiego  per  voi,  mia  luce,  indarno  1’  ale, 

Prima  che  1  caldo  vostro  interno  vento 
M  apra  1’  aere  d’  intorno,  ora  ch’  io  sento 
Vincer  da  nuovo  ardir  l’antico  male; 

Che  giunga  all’  infinito  opra  mortale 
Opra  vostra  e,  Signor,  che  in  un  momento 
La  pud  far  degna ;  ch’  io  da  me  pavento 
Di  cader  col  pensier  quand’  ei  piu,  sale. 

Bramo  quell’  invisibil  chiaro  lume, 

Che  fuga  densa  nebbia;  e  quell’  accesa 
Secreta  fiamma,  ch’  ogni  gel  consuma. 

Onde  poi,  sgombra  dal  terren  costume, 

Tutta  al  divino  amor  1’  anima  intesa 
Si  mova  al  volo  ultero  in  ultra  piuma.” 

10* 


186 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


Thus  done  into  English  : 

“  Feeling  new  force  to  conquer  primal  sin, 

Yet  all  in  vain  I  spread  my  wings  to  thee, 

My  light,  until  the  air  around  shall  be 
Made  clear  for  me  by  thy  warm  breath  within. 

That  mortal  works  should  reach  the  infinite 
Is  thy  work,  Lord !  For  in  a  moment  thou 
Canst  give  them  worth.  Left  to  myself  I  know 
My  thought  would  fall,  when  at  its  utmost  height. 

I  long  for  that  clear  radiance  from  above 

That  puts  to  flight  all  cloud  ;  and  that  bright  flame 
Which  secret  burning  warms  the  frozen  soul ; 

So  that  set  free  from  every  mortal  aim, 

And  all  intent  alone  on  heavenly  love, 

She  flies  with  stronger  pinion  towards  her  goal.” 


In  tlie  following  lines,  which  form  the 
conclusion  of  a  sonnet,  in  which  she 
has  been  saying  that  God  does  not  per¬ 
mit  that  any  pure  heart  should  be  con¬ 
cealed  from  His  all-seeing  eye  “  by  the 
fraud  or  force  of  others,  ”  we  have  a 
very  remarkable  bit  of  such  heresy  on 
the  vital  point  of  the  confessional,  as 
has  been  sufficient  to  consign  more 
than  one  victim  to  the  stake  : — 


Vittor  ia  C olonna . 


187 


u  Securi  del  suo  dolce  e  giusto  impero, 

Non  come  il  prinio  padre  e  la  sua  donna, 
Dobbiani  del  nostro  error  biasimare  altrui; 
Ma  con  la  speme  accesa  e  dolor  vero 
i  Aprir  dentro,  passando  oltra  la  gonna 
I falli  nostri  a  solo  a  sol  con  lui” 


The  underlined  words,  “  passando 
oltra  la  gonna,”  literally,  “passing  be* 
yond  the  gown,”  though  the  sense  ap¬ 
pears  to  be  unmistakable,  are  yet  suf¬ 
ficiently  obscure  and  unobvious,  and 
the  phrase  sufficiently  far-fetched,  to 
lead  to  the  suspicion  of  a  wish  on  the 
part  of  the  writer  in  some  degree  to 
veil  her  meaning.  “  That  in  the  captain's 
but  a  choleric  word,  which  in  the  soldier 
is  foul  blasphemy.  ”  And  the  high¬ 
born  Colon n a  lady,  the  intimate  friend 
of  cardinals  and  princes,  might  write 
much  with  impunity  which  would  have 
been  perilous  to  less  lofty  heads.  But 
the  sentiment  in  this  very  remarkable 
passage  implies  an  attack  on  one  of 


188 


Vittoria  G olonna. 


Rome’s  tenderest  and  sorest  points.  In 
English  the  lines  run  thus  : — 

“  Confiding  in  His  just  and  gentle  sway 

We  should  not  dare,  like  Adam  and  his  wife, 

On  other’s  backs  our  proper  blame  to  lay ; 

But  with  new-kindled  hope  and  unfeigned  grief, 
Passing  by  'priestly  robes ,  lay  bare  within 
To  Him  alone  the  secret  of  our  sin.” 

Again,  in  the  conclusion  of  another 
sonnet,  in  which  she  has  been  speaking 
of  the  benefits  of  Christ’s  death,  and  of 
the  necessity  of  a  u  soprannatural  divina 
fede”  for  the  receiving  of  them,  she 
writes  in  language  very  similar  to  that 
of  many  a  modern  advocate  of  u  free  in¬ 
spiration,”  and  which  must  have  been 
distasteful  to  the  erudite  clergy  of  the 
dominant  hierarchy,  as  follows  : — 


“  Que’  ch’  avra  sol  in  lui  le  luci  fisse, 

Non  que’  ch’  intese  meglio,  o  che  pih  lesse 
Volumi  in  terra,  in  ciel  sara  beato. 

In  carta  questa  legge  non  si  scrisse  ; 

Ma  con  la  stampa  sua  nel  cor  purgato 
Col  foco  dell’  amor  Gesu  1’  impresse.” 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


189 


In  English : — 

“  He  who  hath  fixed  on  Christ  alone  his  eyes, 

Not  he  who  best  hath  understood,  or  read 
Most  earthly  volumes,  shall  Heaven’s  bliss  attain. 
For  not  on  paper  did  He  write  His  law, 

But  printed  it  on  expurgated  hearts 
Stamped  with  the  fire  of  Jesus’  holy  love.” 

In  another  remarkable  sonnet,  she 
gives  expression  to  the  prevailing  feel¬ 
ing  ot  the  pressing  necessity  for  Church 
reform,  joined  to  a  marked  declaration 
of  belief  in  the  doctrine  of*  Papal  infal¬ 
libility  ;  a  doctrine,  which  by  its  tena¬ 
cious  hold  on  the  Italian  mind,  contrib 
uted  mainly  to  extinguish  the  sudden 
straw  blaze  of  reforming  tendencies 
throughout  Italy.  The  lines  run  as  fol¬ 
lows  : — 

“  ^  eggi°  d’  alga  e  di  fango  omai  si  carca, 

Pietro,  la  rete  tua,  che  se  qualche  onda 
Hi  fuor  1’  assale  o  intorno  circonda, 

Potria  spezzarsi,  e  a  rischio  andar  la  barca; 

La  qual,  non  come  suol  leggiera  e  scarca, 

Sovra  ’1  turbato  mar  corre  a  seconda, 


190 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


Ma  in  poppa  e’u  prora,  all’  una  e  all’  altra  sponda 
E’  grave  si  ch’  a  grau  periglio  varca. 

II  tuo  buon  successor,  cK  alia  cagione 
Direttamente  elessc ,  e  cor  e  mano 
Move  sovente  per  condurla  a  porto. 

Ma  contra  il  voler  suo  ratto  s’  oppone 

L’  altrui  malizia ;  onde  ciascun  s’  e  accorto, 

Ch’  egli  senza  ’1  tuo  aiuto  adopra  in  vano.” 


Which  may  be  thus  read  in  English 
blank  verse,  giving  not  very  poetically, 
but  with  tolerable  fidelity,  the  sense  of 
the  original : — 

“  With  mud  and  weedy  growth  so  foul  I  see 
Thy  net,  0  Peter,  that  should  any  wave 
Assail  it  from  without  or  trouble  it, 

It  might  be  rended,  and  so  risk  the  ship. 

For  now  thy  bark,  no  more,'  as  erst,  skims  light 
With  favoring  breezes  o’er  the  troubled  sea ; 

But  labors  burthen’d  so  from  stem  to  stern, 

That  danger  menaces  the  course  it  steers. 

Thy  good  successor,  by  direct  decree 

Of  providence  elect ,  with  heart  and  hand 
Assiduous  strives  to  bring  it  to  the  port. 

But  spite  his  striving  his  intent  is  foiled 
By  other’s  evil.  So  that  all  have  seen 
That  without  aid  from  thee,  he  strives  in  vain.’ 


The  lofty  pretensions  of  the  Bishop 


I Tittoria  C olonna. 


191 


of  Rome,  which  our  poetess,  with  all 
her  reforming  aspirations,  goes  out  of 
her  way  to  declare  and  maintain  in  the 
phrase  of  the  above  sonnet  marked  by 
italics,  were  dear  to  the  hearts  of  Ital¬ 
ians.  It  may  be,  that  an  antagonistic 
bias,  arising  from  feelings  equally  be¬ 
yond  the  limits  of  the  religious  question, 
helped  to  add  acrimony  to  the  attacks 
of  the  transalpine  reformers.  But  there 
can  be  no  doubt,  that  Italian  self-love 
was  active  in  rendering  distasteful  to 
Italians  a  doctrine,  whose  effect  would 
be  to  pull  down  Rome  from  her  position 
as  capital  of  the  Christian  world,  and 
no  longer  permit  an  Italian  ecclesiastic 
to  issue  his  lofty  decrees  “  Urbi  et 
Orbi.”  And  those  best  acquainted 
with  the  Italian  mind  of  that  period,  as 
evidenced  by  its  literature,  and  illustrat¬ 
ed  by  its  still-existing  tendencies  and 
prejudices,  will  most  appreciate  the  ex¬ 
tent  to  which  such  feelings  unquestion- 


192 


Vittorio,  Colonri'a. 


ably  operated  in  preventing  the  refor¬ 
mation  from  taking  root,  and  bearing 
fruit  in  Italy. 

Tbe  readers  of  tlie  foregoing  sonnets, 
even  those  who  are  familiar  with  the 
language  of  the  original,  will  probably 
have  wondered  at  the  greatness  of  the 
poetical  reputation,  which  was  built 
out  of  such  materials.  It  is  but  fair, 
however,  to  the  poetess  to  state,  that 
the  citations  have  been  selected,  rather 
with  the  view  of  decisively  proving 
these  Protestant  leanings  of  Vittoria, 
which  have  been  so  eagerly  denied,  and 
of  illustrating  the  tone  of  Italian  Prot¬ 
estant  feeling  at  that  period,  than  of 
presenting  the  most  favorable  speci¬ 
mens  of  her  poetry.  However  fitly  de¬ 
votional  feeling  may  be  clothed  in 
poetry  of  the  highest  order,  controver¬ 
sial  divinity  is  not  a  happy  subject  for 
verse.  And  Vittoria,  on  the  compara¬ 
tively  rare  occasions,  when  she  permits 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


193 


herself  to  escape  from  the  considera¬ 
tion  of  disputed  dogma,  can  make  a 
nearer  approach  to  true  poetry  of 
thought  and  expression. 

In  the  following  sonnet,  it  is  curious 
to  observe  how  the  expression  of  the 
grand  and  simple  sentiment  of  perfect 
trust  in  the  will  and  intentions  of  the 
omnipotent  Creator,  which,  in  the  first 
eight  lines,  rises  into  something  like 
poetry,  becomes  flattened  and  debased 
into  the  most  prosaic  doggrel,  as  soon 
as  the  author,  recollecting  the  contro¬ 
versies  raging  round  her  on  the  subject, 
bethinks  her  of  the  necessity  of  duly 
defining  the  theological  virtue  of 
“  Faith,”  as  being  of  that  sort  fit  for  the 
production  of  works. 

“  Deh !  mandi  oggi,  Signor,  novello  e  chiaro 
Raggio  al  mio  cor  di  quella  ardente  fede, 

Ch’  opra  sol  per  amor,  non  per  mercede, 

Onde  ugualmente  il  tuo  voler  gli  e  caro ! 

Dal  dolce  fonte  tuo  pensa  eke  amaro 
Nascer  non  possa,  anzi  riceve  e  crede 


194 


Vittorio,  Golonna. 

Per  buon  quant’  ode,  e  per  bel  quanto  vede, 
Per  largo  il  ciel,  quand’  ei  si  mostra  avaro. 
Se  chieder  grazia  all’  umil  servo  lice, 

Questa  fede  vorrei,  che  illustra,  accende, 

E  pasce  1’  alma  sol  di  lume  vero. 

Con  questa  in  parte  il  gran  valor  s’  intende, 
Che  pianta  e  ferma  in  noi  1’  alta  radice, 
Qual  rende  i  frutti  a  lui  tutti  d’amore.” 

Which  may  be  thus  rendered  : — 


“  Grant  to  my  heart  a  pure  fresh  ray,  0  Lord, 

Of  that  bright  ardent  faith,  which  makes  thy  will 
Its  best-loved  law,  and  seeks  it  to  fulfil 
For  love  alone,  not  looking  for  reward ; — 

That  faith,  which  deems  no  ill  can  come  from  thee, 
But  humbly  trusts,  that,  rightly  understood 
All  that  meets  eye  or  ear  is  fair  and  good, 

And  Heaven’s  love  oft  in  prayers  refused  can  see. 
And  if  thy  handmaid  might  prefer  a  suit, 

I  would  that  faith  possess  that  fires  the  heart, 

And  feeds  the  soul  with  the  true  light  alone; 

I  mean  hereby,  that  mighty  power  in  part, 

Which  plants  and  strengthens  in  us  the  deep  root, 
From  which  all  fruits  of  love  for  him  are  grown.” 

In  the  following  sonnet,  which  is 
one  of  several  dictated  by  the  same 
mood  of  feeling,  the  more  subjective 
tone  of  her  thought  affords  us  an  auto- 


Vittor  ia  Colonna. 


195 


biographical  glimpse  of  her  state  of 
mind  on  religions  subjects.  We  find, 
that  the  new  tenets  which  she  had 
imbibed  had  failed  to  give  her  peace 
ol  mind.  That  comfortable  security, 
and  undoubting  satisfied  tranquillity, 
procured  for  the  mass  of  her  orthodox 
contemporaries,  by  the  due  performance 
of  their  fasts,  vigils,  penitences,  &c., 
was  not  attained  for  Vittoria  by  a  creed, 
which  required  her,  as  she  here  tells 
us,  to  stifle  the  suggestions  of  her  rea¬ 
son. 


“  Se  con  1’  armi  celesti  avess’  io  vinto 
Me  stessa,  i  sensi,  e  la  ragione  umana, 
Andrei  con  altro  spirto  alta  e  loritana 
Dal  mondo,  e  dal  suo  onor  falso  dipinto. 

Sull’  ali  della  fede  il  pensier  cinto 
Di  speme,  omai  non  piu  caduca  e  vana, 
Sarebbe  fuor  di  questa  valle  insana 
Da  verace  virtute  alzato  e  spinto. 

Ben  ho  gia  fermo  1’  occhio  al  miglior  fine 
Dei  nostro  corso ;  ma  non  volo  ancora 
Per  lo  destro  sentier  salda  e  leggiera. 

Veggio  i  segni  del  sol,  scorgo  1’  aurora; 


196 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


Ma  per  li  sacri  giri  alle  divine 
Stanze  non  entro  in  quella  luce  vera.” 

Englished  as  follows  : — 

“  Had  I  with  heavenly  arms  ’gainst  self  and  sense 
And  human  reason  waged  successful  war, 

Then  with  a  dilferent  spirit  soaring  far 
I’d  fly  the  world’s  vain  glory  and  pretence. 

Then  soaring  thought  on  wings  of  faith  might  rise, 
Armed  by  a  hope  no  longer  vain  or  frail 
Far  from  the  madness  of  this  earthly  vale, 

Led  by  true  virtue  towards  its  native  skies. 

That  better  aim  is  ever  in  my  sight, 

Of  man’s  existence;  but  not  yet’tis  mine 
To  speed  sure-footed  on  the  happy  way. 

Signs  of  the  rising  sun  and  coming  day 
I  see  ;  but  enter  not  the  courts  divine 
Whose  holy  portals  lead  to  perfect  light.” 

A  touch  of  similar  feeling  may  he 
observed  also  in  the  following  sonnet, 
united  with  more  of  poetical  feeling 
and  expression.  Indeed,  this  sonnet 
may  be  offered  as  a  specimen  of  the 
author’s  happiest  efforts  : — 

“  Fra  gelo  e  nebbia  corro  a  Dio  sovente 
Per  foco  e  lume,  onde  i  ghiacci  disciolti 


I Tittoria  Colonna. 


197 


Sieno,  e  gli  ombrosf  veli  aperti  e  tolti 
Dalla  divina  luce  e  fiamma  ardente. 

E  se  fredda  ed  oscura  e  ancor  la  mente, 
Pur  son  tutti  i  pensieri  al  ciel  rivolti ; 

E  par  che  dentro  in  gran  silenzio  ascolti 
Un  suon,  che  sol  nelP  anima  si  sente; 

E  dice  ;  Non  temer,  che  venne  al  mondo 
Gesu  d’  eterno  ben  largo  ampio  mare, 
Per  far  leggiero  ogni  gravoso  pondo. 

Sempre  son  l’  onde  sue  piu  dolci  e  chiare 
A  chi  con  umil  barca  in  quel  gran  fondo 
Dell’  alta  sua  bontil  si  laseia  andare.” 


If  the  reader,  who  is  able  to  form  a 
judgment  of  the  poetical  merit  of  this 
sonnet  only  from  the  subjoined  transla¬ 
tion,  should  fail  to  find  in  it  any  thing 
to  justify  the  opinion  that  has  been  ex¬ 
pressed  of  it,  he  is  entreated  to  believe 
that  the  fault  is  that  of  the  translator, 
who  can  promise  only  that  the  sense 
has  been  faithfully  rendered  : — 

“  Ofttimes  to  God  through  frost  and  cloud  I  go 
For  light  and  warmth  to  break  my  icy  chain, 

And  pierce  and  rend  my  veils  of  doubt  in  twain 
With  his  divinest  love,  and  radiant  glow. 

And  if  my  soul  sit  cold  and  dark  below 

17* 


198 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


Yet  all  her  longings  fixed  on  heaven  remain  ; 

And  seems  she  ’mid  deep  silence  to  a  strain 
To  listen,  which  the  soul  alone  can  know, — 
Saying,  Fear  nought!  for  Jesus  came  on  earth, — 
Jesus  of  endless  joys  the  wide  deep  sea, 

To  ease  each  heavy  load  of  mortal  birth. 

His  waters  ever  clearest,  sweetest  be 
To  him,  who  in  a  lonely  bark  drifts  forth, 

On  his  great  deeps  of  goodness  trustfully.” 

It  will  probably  be  admitted,  that 
the  foregoing  extracts  from  Yittoria 
Colonna’s  poetry,  if  they  do  not  suffice 
to  give  the  outline  of  the  entire  fabric 
of  her  religious  faith,  yet  abundantly 
prove,  that  she  must  be  classed  among 
the  Protestant  and  reforming  party  of 
her  age  and  country,  rather  than 
among  the  orthodox  Catholics,  their 
opponents.  The  passages  quoted  all 
bear,  more  or  less  directly,  on  a  few 
special  points  of  doctrine,  as  do  also  the 
great  bulk  of  her  religious  poems.  But 
these  points  are  precisely  those  on  which 
the  reforming  movement  was  based, 
the  cardinal  points  of  difference  be- 


I r it  tori  a  Colonna. 


199 


tween  the  parties.  They  involve  ex¬ 
actly  those  doctrines  which  Rome,  on 
mature  examination  and  reflection, 
rightly  found  to  be  fatally  incompatible 
with  her  system.  For  the  dominant 
party  at  Trent  were  assuredly  wiser  in 
their  generation  than  such  children  of 
light,  as  the  good  Contarini,  who 
dreamed  that  a  purified  Papacy  was 
possible,  and  that  Rome  might  still  be 
Rome,  after  its  creed  had  been  thus 
modified.  Caraffa  and  Ghislieri,  Popes 
Paul  IV  and  Pius  Y,  and  their  in¬ 
quisitors  knew  very  clearly  better. 

It  is,  of  course,  natural  enough,  that 
the  points  of  doctrine  then  new  and 
disputed,  the  points  respecting  which 
the  poetess  differed  from  the  majority 
of  the  world  around  her,  and  which 
must  have  been  the  subject  of  her 
special  meditation,  should  occupy  also 
Hie  most  prominent  position  in  her 
writings.  \  et  it  is  remarkable,  that  in 


200 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


bo  large  a  mass  of  poetry  on  exclusively 
religious  themes,  there  should  be  found 
hardly  a  thought  or  sentiment  on  topics 
of  practical  morality.  The  title  of 
“  Rime  sacre  e  morali ,”  prefixed  by 
Visconti  to  this  portion  of  Vittoria’s 
writings,  is  wholly  a  misnomer.  If 
these  sonnets  furnish  the  materials  for 
forming  a  tolerably  accurate  notion  ot 
her  scheme  of  theology,  our  estimate 
of  her  views  of  morality  must  be  sought 
elsewhere. 

There  is  every  reason  to  feel  satisfied, 
both  from  such  records  as  we  have  of 
her  life,  and  from  the  perfectly  agreeing 
testimony  of  her  contemporaries,  that 
the  tenor  of  her  own  life  and  conduct 
was  not  only  blameless,  but  marked  by 
the  consistent  exercise  of  many  noble 
virtues.  But,  much  as  we  hear  from 
the  lamentations  of  preachers  of  the 
habitual  tendency  of  human  conduct  to 
fall  short  of  human  professions,  the  op- 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


201 


posite  phenomena  exhibited  by  men, 
whose  intuitive  moral  sense  is  superior 
to  the  teaching  derivable  from  their 
creed,  is  perhaps  quite  as  common. 
That  band  of  eminent  men,  who  were 
especially  known  as  the  maintainers 
and  defenders  of  the  peculiar  tenets 
held  by  Yittoria,  were  unquestionably 
in  all  respects  the  best  and  noblest  of 
their  age  and  country.  Yet  their  creed 
was  assuredly  an  immoral  one.  And 
in  the  rare  passages  of  our  poetess’s 
writings,  in  which  a  glimpse  of  moraJ 
theory  can  be  discerned,  the  low  and 
and  unenlightened  nature  of  it  is  such, 
as  to  prove,  that  the  heaven-taught 
heart  reached  purer  heights  than  the 
creed-taught  intelligence  could  attain. 

What  could  be  worse,  for  instance, 
than  the  morality  of  the  following  con¬ 
clusion  of  a  sonnet,  in  which  she  has 
been  lamenting  the  blindness  of  those 


2  02 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


who  sacrifice  eternal  bliss  for  the  sake 
of  worldly  pleasures. 

She  writes : — 

“  Poiche  ’1  mal  per  natura  non  gli  annoia, 

E  del  ben  per  ragion  piacer  non  hanno, 
Abbian  almen  di  Dio  giusto  timore.” 

In  English  : — 

“  Since  evil  by  its  nature  pains  them  not, 

Nor  good  for  its  own  proper  sake  delights, 

Let  them  at  least  have  righteous  fear  of  God.” 


She  appears  incapable  of  understand¬ 
ing*  that  no  tear  ot  God  could  in  any 
wise  avail  to  improve  or  profit  him, 
who  has  no  aversion  from  evil,  and  no 
love  for  good.  She  does  not  perceive, 
that  to  inculcate  so  godless  a  fear  of 
God,  is  to  make  the  Creator  a  mere 
bugbear  for  police  purposes  ;  and  that 
a  theory  of  Deity  constructed  on  this 
basis  would  become  a  degrading  de- 
monolatry ! 


203 


Vittoria  C olonna. 

Vittoria  Colonna  has  survived  in 
men’s  memory  as  a  poetess.  But  she 
is  far  more  interesting  to  the  historical 
student,  who  "would  obtain  a  full  un¬ 
derstanding  of  that  wonderful  sixteenth 
century,  as  a  Protestant.  Her  highly 
gifted  and  richly  cultivated  intelligence, 
her  great  social  position,  and  above  all, 
her  close  intimacy  with  the  eminent 
men  who  strove  to  set  on  foot  an  Italian 
reformation  which  should  not  be  in¬ 
compatible  with  the  Papacy,  make  the 
illustration  of  her  religious  opinions  a 
matter  of  no  slight  historical  interest. 
And  the  bulk  of  the  citations  from  her 
works  has  accordingly  been  selected 
with  this  view.  But  it  is  fair  to  her 
reputation  to  give  one  sonnet  at  least, 
chosen  for  no  other  reason  than  its 
merit. 

The  following,  written  apparently  on 
the  anniversary  of  our  Saviour’s  cruci- 


204 


I rittoria  C olonna. 


fixion,  is  certainly  one  of  the  best,  if 
not  the  best  in  the  collection  : — 

“  Gli  angeli  eletti  al  gran  bene  infinite 
Braman  oggi  soft'rir  penosa  morte, 

Accid  nella  celeste  empirea  corte 
Non  sia  piu  il  servo,  che  il  signor,  gradito. 
Piange  1’  antica  madre  il  gusto  ardito 
Ch’  a’  figli  suoi  del  ciel  chiuse  le  porte ; 

E  che  due  man  piagate  or  sieno  scorte 
Da  ridurne  al  cammin  per  lei  smarrito. 

Asconde  il  sol  la  sua  fulgente  chioma; 

Spezzansi  i  sassi  vivi ;  apronsi  i  monti ; 

Trema  la  terra  e  ’1  ciel ;  turbansi  1’  acque  ; 
Piangon  gli  spirti,  al  nostro  mal  si  pronti, 

Delle  catene  lor  1’  aggiunta  soma. 

L’  uomo  non  piange,  e  pur  piangendo  nacque  1  ” 

Of  which  the  following  is  an  inade¬ 
quate  but  tolerably  faithful  transla¬ 
tion  : — 

“  The  angels  to  eternal  bliss  preferred, 

Long  on  this  day  a  painful  death  to  die, 

Lest  in  the  heavenly  mansions  of  the  sky 
The  servant  be  more  favored  than  his  Lord. 

Man’s  ancient  mother  weeps  the  deed,  this  day 
That  shut  the  gates  of  heaven  against  her  race, 

W eeps  the  tw o  pierced  hands,  whose  work  of  grace, 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


205 


Refinds  the  path,  from  which  she  made  man  stray. 
The  sun  his  ever-burning  ray  doth  veil ; 

Earth  and  sky  tremble ;  ocean  quakes  amain, 
And  mountains  gape,  and  living  rocks  are  torn. 
The  fiends,  on  watch  for  human  evil,  wail 
The  added  weight  of  their  restraining  chain. 
Man  only  weeps  not;  yet  was  weeping  born.” 


As  the  previous  extracts  from  the 
works  of  Vittoria  have  been,  as  has 
been  stated,  selected  principally  with  a 
view  to  prove  her  Protestantism,  it  is 
fair  to  observe,  that  there  are  several 
sonnets  addressed  to  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  some  to  various  Saints,  from  which 
(though  they  are  wholly  free  from  any 
allusion  to  the  grosser  superstitions  that 
Pome  encourages  her  faithful  disciples 
to  connect  with  these  personages),  it  is 
yet  clear  that  the  writer  believed  in  the 
value  of  saintly  intercession  at  the 
throne  of  grace.  It  is  also  worth  re¬ 
marking,  that  she  nowhere  betrays  the 
smallest  consciousness  that  she  is  dif¬ 
fering  in  opinion  from  the  recognized 
18 


206 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


tenets  of  the  Church,  unless  it  he  found, 
as  was  before  suggested,  in  an  occa¬ 
sional  obscurity  of  phrase,  which  seems 
open  to  the  suspicion  of  having  been 
intentional.  The  great  majority  of 
these  poems,  however,  were  in  all  prob¬ 
ability  composed  before  the  Church 
had  entered  on  her  new  career  of  per¬ 
secution.  And  as  regards  the  ever- 
recurring  leading  point  of  “justifica¬ 
tion  by  grace,”  it  wTas  impossible  to  say 
exactly  how  far  it  was  orthodox  to  go 
in  the  statement  of  this  tenet,  until 
Rome  had  finally  decided  her  doctrine 
by  the  decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent. 

One  other  remark,  which  will  hardly 
fail  to  suggest  itself  to  the  modern 
reader  of  Vittoria’s  poetry,  may  be 
added  respecting  these  once  celebrated 
and  enthusiastically  received  works. 
There  is  not  to  be  discovered  through¬ 
out  the  whole  of  them  one  spark  of 
Italian,  or  patriotic  feeling.  The  ab- 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


207 


sence  of  any  such,  must,  undoubtedly, 
be  regarded  only  as  a  confirmation  of 
the  fact  asserted  in  a  previous  chapter, 
that  no  sentiment  of  the  kind  was  then 
known  in  Italy.  In  that  earlier  portion 
of  her  works,  which  is  occupied  almost 
exclusively  with  her  husband’s  praises, 
it  is  hardly  possible  that  the  expression 
of  such  feelings  should  have  found  no 
place,  had  they  existed  in  her  mind. 
But  it  is  a  curious  instance  of  the  degree 
to  which  even  the  better  intellects  of 
an  age  are  blinded  by,  and  made  sub¬ 
servient  to,  the  tone  of  feeling  and 
habits  of  thought  prevalent  around 
them,  that  it  never  occurs  to  this  pure 
and  lofty-minded  Vittoria,  in  celebrat¬ 
ing  the  prowess  of  her  hero,  to  give  a 
thought  to  the  cause  for  which  he  was 
drawing  the  sword.  To  prevail,  to  be 
the  stronger,  “  to  take  great  cities,” 
“  to  rout  the  foe,”  appears  to  be  all 
that  her  beau  ideal  of  heroism  required. 


208 


Vittorio,  C olonna. 


Wrong  is  done,  and  the  strong-hand¬ 
ed  doer  of  it  admired,  the  moral  sense 
is  blunted  by  the  cowardly  worship  of 
success,  and  might  takes  from  right  the 
suffrages  of  the  feeble,  in  the  nineteenth 
as  in  the  sixteenth  century.  But  the 
contemplation  of  the  total  absence  from 
such  a  mind  as  that  of  Vittoria  Colonna, 
of  all  recognition  of  a  right  and  a  wrong 
in  such  matters,  furnishes  highly  in¬ 
structive  evidence  of  the  reality  of  the 
moral  progress  mankind  has  achieved. 


Vi  t  tori  a  Colonna. 


209 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Return  to  Rome. — Her  great  reputation. — Friendship  with 
Michael  Angelo. — Medal  of  this  period. — Removal  to  Or- 
vieto. — Visit  from  Luca  Contile. — Her  determination  not 
to  quit  the  Church. — Francesco  d’Olanda. — His  record  of 
conversations  with  Vittoria. — Vittoria  at  Viterbo. — Influ¬ 
ence  of  Cardinal  Pole  on  her  mind. — Last  return  to  Rome. 
— Her  death. 


Vittoria  arrived  in  Rome  from  Fer¬ 
rara  in  all  probability  about  the  end 
of  the  year  1537.  She  was  now  in  the 
zenith  of  her  reputation.  The  learned 
and  elegant  Bembo  1  writes  of  her,  that 
he  considered  her  poetical  judgment  as 
sound  and  authoritative  as  that  of  the 
greatest  masters  of  the  art  of  song. 

1  Bembo.  Opera,  vol.  iii.  p.  65. 

18* 


210  Vittoria  Colonna. 

Guidiccioni,  the  poetical  Bishop  ot 
Fossombrone,  and  ot  Paul  Ill’s  ablest 
diplomatists,  declares  1  that  the  ancient 
glory  of  Tuscany  had  altogether  pass¬ 
ed  into  Latium  in  her  person ;  and 
sends  her  sonnets  of  his  own,  with 
earnest  entreaties  that  she  will  point 
out  the  faults  of  them.  Veronica 
Gambara,  herself  a  poetess,  of  merit 
perhaps  not  inferior  to  that  of  Vittoria, 
professed  herself  her  most  ardent  ad¬ 
mirer,  and  engaged  Binaldo  Corso  to 
write  the  commentary  on  her  poems, 
which  he  executed  as  we  have  seen. 
Bernardo  Tasso  made  her  the  subject 
of  several  of  his  poems.  Giovio  dedi¬ 
cated  to  her  his  life  of  Pescara,  and 
Cardinal  Pompeo  Colonna  his  book  on 
“  The  Praises  of  Women  ;  ”  and  Con- 
tarini  paid  her  the  far  more  remarkable 
compliment  of  dedicating  to  her  his 
work  <c  On  Free  Will.” 


1  Opere,  ed.  Ven.,  p.  164. 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


211 


Paul  III  was,  as  Muratori  says,1  by  no 
means  well  disposed  towards  the  Colon- 
na  family.  Y  et  Vittoria  must  have 
had  influence  with  the  haughty  and 
severe  old  Farnese.  For  both  Bembo, 
and  Fregoso,  the  Bishop  of  Naples,  have 
taken  occasion  to  acknowledge  that 
they  owed  their  promotion  to  the  pur¬ 
ple  in  great  measure  to  her. 

But  the  most  noteworthy  event  of 
this  period  of  Yittoria’s  life,  was  the 
commencement  of  her  acquaintance 
with  Michael  Angelo  Buonarroti.2  That 
great  man  was  then  in  his  63d  year, 
while  the  poetess  was  in  her  47th.  The 
acquaintanceship  grew  rapidly  into  a 
close  and  durable  friendship,  which 
lasted  during  the  remainder  of  Yitto¬ 
ria’s  life.  It  was  a  friendship  emi¬ 
nently  honorable  to  both  of  them. 
Michael  Angelo  was  a  man  whose  in¬ 
fluence  on  his  age  was  felt  and  ac- 


1  Annales,  ad.  ann.  1540. 


2  Visconti,  p.  128. 


212 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


knowledged,  while  he  was  yet  living 
and  exercising  it,  to  a  degree  rarely  ob¬ 
servable  even  in  the  case  of  the  greatest 
minds.  He  had,  at  the  time  in  question, 
already  reached  the  zenith  of  his  fame, 
although  he  lived  to  witness  and  enjoy 
it  for  another  quarter  of  a  century.  He 
was  a  man  formed  by  nature,  and  al¬ 
ready  habituated  by  the  social  position 
his  contemporaries  had  accorded  to 
him,  to  mould  men — not  to  be  moulded 
by  them — not  a  smooth  or  pliable  man; 
rugged  rather,  self-relying,  self-concen¬ 
trated,  and,  though  full  of  kindness  for 
those  who  needed  kindness,  almost  a 
stern  man  ;  no  courtier,  though  accus¬ 
tomed  to  the  society  of  courts  ;  and  apt 
to  consider  courtier-like  courtesies  and 
habitudes  as  impertinent  impediments 
to  the  requirements  of  his  high  calling, 
to  be  repressed  rather  than  condescend¬ 
ed  to.  Yet  the  strong  and  kingly 
nature  of  this  high-souled  old  man  was 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


213 


moulded  into  new  form  by  contact  with 
that  of  the  comparatively  youthful 
poetess. 

The  religious  portion  of  the  great 
artist’s  nature  had  scarcely  shaped  out 
for  itself  any  more  defined  and  sub¬ 
stantial  form  of  expression  than  a  wor¬ 
ship  of  the  beautiful  in  spirit  as  well 
as  in  matter.  By  Vittoria  he  was  made 
a  devout  Christian.  The  change  is 
strongly  marked  in  his  poetry  ;  and  in 
several  passages  of  the  poems,  four  or 
five  in  number,  addressed  to  her,  he 
attributes  it  entirely  to  her  influence.1 

Some  silly  stuff  has  been  written  by 
very  silly  writers,  by  way  of  imparting 
the  “  interesting  ”  character  of  a  belle 
passion ,  more  or  less  platonic,  to  this 
friendship  between  the  sexagenarian 
artist  and  the  immaculate  Colonna. 
No  argument  is  necessary  to  indicate 
the  utter  absurdity  of  an  idea  which 


1  So©  Harford’s  Michaol  Angelo,  voL  ii.  p.  148,  et  86q. 


214 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


implies  a  thorough  ignorance  of  the 
persons  in  question,  of  the  circum¬ 
stances  of  their  friendship,  and  of  all 
that  remains  on  record  of  what  passed 
between  them.  Mr.  Harford,  whose 
“  Life  of  Michael  Angelo  75  has  been 
already  quoted,  was  permitted,  he  says, 
to  hear  read  the  letters  from  Vittoria 
to  her  friend,  which  are  preserved  in 
that  collection  of  papers  and  memo¬ 
rials  of  the  great  artist,  which  forms 
the  most  treasured  possession  of  his 
descendants  ; 1  and  he  gives  the  follow¬ 
ing  account  of  them  :  2 

“  They  are  five  in  number ;  and 
there  is  a  sixth,  addressed  by  her  to  a 
friend,  which  relates  to  Michael  An¬ 
gelo.  Two  of  these  letters  refer  in 
very  grateful  terms  to  the  fine  draw¬ 
ings  he  had  been  making  for  her,  and 
to  which  she  alludes  with  admiration. 
Another  glances  with  deep  interest  at 

*  Note  4.  3  Harford’s  Michael  Angelo,  vol.  ii.  p.  158. 


Vi tt or i a  Colonna. 


215 


the  devout  sentiments  of  a  sonnet, 
which  it  appears  lie  had  sent  for  her 

perusal . Another  tells  him  in 

playful  terms  that  his  duties  as  archi¬ 
tect  of  St.  Peter’s,  and  her  own  to  the 
youthful  inmates  of  the  convent  of  St. 
Catherine  at  Viterbo,  admit  not  of 
their  frequently  exchanging  letters. 
This  must  have  been  written  just  a 
year  before  her  death,  which  occurred 
in  1547.  Michael  Angelo  became 
architect  of  St.  Peter’s  in  1546.  These 
letters  are  written  with  the  most  per¬ 
fect  ease,  in  a  firm,  strong  hand ;  but 
there  is  not  a  syllable  in  any  of  them 
approaching  to  tenderness.” 

The  period  of  Vittoria’s  stay  in  Pome 
on  this  occasion  must  have  been  a 
pleasant  one.  The  acknowledged  lead¬ 
er  of  the  best  and  most  intellectual 
society  in  that  city  ;  surrounded  by  a 
company  of  gifted  and  high-minded 
men,  bound  to  her  and  to  each  other 


216 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


by  that  most  intimate  and  ennobling  of 
all  ties,  the  common  profession  of  a 
higher,  nobler,  purer  theory  of  life 
than  that  which  prevailed  around 
them,  and  a  common  membership  of 
what  might  almost  be  called  a  select 
church  within  a  church,  whose  prin¬ 
ciples  and  teaching  its  disciples  hoped 
to  see  rapidly  spreading  and  benefi¬ 
cially  triumphant ;  dividing  her  time 
between  her  religious  duties,  her  liter¬ 
ary  occupations,  and  conversation  with 
well-loved  and  well-understood  friends ; 
— Vittoria  can  hardly  have  been  still  tor¬ 
mented  by  temptations  to  commit  sui¬ 
cide.  Yet  in  a  medal  struck  in  her  honor 
at  this  period  of  her  life,  the  last  of  the 
series  engraved  for  Visconti’s  edition 
of  her  works,  the  reverse  represents  a 
phoenix  on  her  funeral  pile  gazing  on 
the  sun,  while  the  flames  are  rising 
around  her.  The  obverse  has  a  bust 
of  the  poetess,  showing  the  features  a 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


217 


good  deal  changed  in  the  course  of  the 
six  or  seven  years  which  had  elapsed 
since  the  execution  of  that  silly  Py ra¬ 
mus  and  Thisbe  medal  mentioned  in  a 
previous  chapter,  though  still  regular 
and  well  formed.  The  tendency  to 
fatness,  and  to  a  comfortable-looking 
double  chin,  is  considerably  increased. 
She  wears  a  singularly  unbecoming 
head-dress  of  plaited  linen,  sitting  close 
to  and  covering  the  entire  head,  with 
long  pendants  at  the  sides  falling  over 
the  shoulders. 

These  pleasant  Roman  days  were, 
however,  destined  to  be  of  brief  dura¬ 
tion.  They  were  cut  short,  strange  as 
the  statement  may  seem,  by  the  impo¬ 
sition  of  an  increased  tax  upon  salt. 
For  when  Paul  III  resorted,  in  1539, 
to  that  always  odious  and  cruel  means 
of  pillaging  his  people,  Ascanio  Co¬ 
lonna  maintained  that,  by  virtue  of 
some  ancient  privilege,  the  new  tax 
19 


218 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


could  not  be  levied  on  his  estates.  The 
pontifical  tax-gatherers  imprisoned  cer¬ 
tain  of  his  vassals  for  refusing  to  pay ; 
whereupon  Ascanio  assembled  his  re¬ 
tainers,  made  a  raid  into  the  Campagna, 
and  drove  off  a  large  number  of  cattle.1 
The  Pope  lost  no  time  in  gathering  an 
army  of  ten  thousand  men,  and  “  war 
was  declared  ”  between  the  sovereign 
and  the  Colonna.  The  varying  fortunes 
of  this  “  war  ”  have  been  narrated  in 
detail  by  more  than  one  historian.5* 
Much  mischief  was  done,  and  a  great 
deal  of  misery  occasioned  by  both  the 
contending  parties.  But  at  length  the 
forces  of  the  Sovereign  got  the  better 
of  those  ol  his  vassal,  and  the  principal 
fortresses  of  the  Colonna  were  taken, 
and  their  fortifications  ordered  to  be 
razed. 

It  was  in  consequence  of  these  mis' 

1  Coppi.  Mem.  Col.,  p.  306. 

*  Especially  Adriani,  Storia  di  suoi  tempi. 


219 


Vittoria  C olonna. 

fortunes,  and  of  that  remarkable  “  soli¬ 
darity  ’  which,  as  has  been  before  ob¬ 
served,  united  in  those  days  the  mem¬ 
bers  ot  a  family  in  their  fortunes  and 
reverses,  that  Vittoria  quitted  Rome, 
probably  towards  the  end  of  1540,  and 
retired  to  Orvieto.  But  the  loss  of 
their  brightest  ornament  was  a  mis¬ 
fortune  which  the  highest  circles  of 
Roman  society  could  not  submit  to 
patiently.  Many  of  the  most  influential 
personages  at  Paul  III.’s  court  visited 
the  celebrated  exile  at  Orvieto,  and  suc¬ 
ceeded  ere  long  in  obtaining  her  re¬ 
turn  to  Rome  after  a  very  short  ab¬ 
sence.1  And  we  accordingly  find  her 
again  in  the  eternal  city  in  the  August, 
of  1541. 

There  is  a  letter  written  by  Luca 
Con  tile,2  the  Sienese  historian,  dramatist 
and  poet,  in  which  he  speaks  of  a  visit 


1  Visconti,  p.  cxxvii. 

2  Contile,  Lettere,  p.  19  ;  Venice,  1564. 


220 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


he  had  paid  to  Vittoria  in  Eome  in  that 
month.  She  asked  him,  he  writes,  for 
news  of  Fra  Bernardino  (Ochino),  and 
on  his  replying  that  he  had  left  behind 
him  at  Milan  the  highest  reputation  for 
virtue  and  holiness,  she  answered,  “  God 
grant  that  he  so  persevere  !  ” 

On  this  passage  of  Luca  Contile’s 
letter,  Visconti  and  others  have  built  a 
long  argument  in  proof  of  Vittoria’s 
orthodoxy.  It  is  quite  clear,  they  say, 
that  she  already  suspected  and  lament¬ 
ed  Ochino’s  progress  towards  heresy, 
and  thus  indicates  her  own  aversion  to 
aught  that  might  lead  to  separation 
from  the  church  of  Borne.  It  would 
be  difficult,  however,  to  show  that  the 
simple  phrase  in  question  had  neces¬ 
sarily  any  such  meaning.  But  any 
dispute  on  this  point  is  altogether  nu¬ 
gatory  ;  tor  it  may  be  at  once  admitted 
that  Vittoria  did  not  quit,  and  in  all 
probability  would  not  under  any  cir. 


Vittorio,  Colonna, 


221 


cumstances  have  quitted,  the  com¬ 
munion  of  the  Church.  And  if  this 
is  all  that  her  Romanist  biographers 
wish  to  maintain,  they  unquestionably 
are  correct  in  their  statements.  She 
acted  in  this  respect  in  conformity  with 
the  conduct  of  the  majority  of  those 
eminent  men  whose  disciple  and  friend 
she  was  during  so  many  years.  And 
the  final  extinction  of  the  reformatory 
movement  in  Italy  was  in  great  meas¬ 
ure  due  precisely  to  the  fact,  that  con¬ 
formity  to  Rome  was  dearer  to  most 
Italian  minds  than  the  independent  as¬ 
sertion  of  their  own  opinions.  It  may 
be  freely  granted,  that  there  is  every 
reason  to  suppose  that  it  would  have 
been  so  to  Yittoria,  had  she  not  been 
so  fortunate  as  to  die  before  her  pecu¬ 
liar  tenets  were  so  definitively  con¬ 
demned  as  to  make  it  necessary  for  her 
to  choose  between  abandoning  them  or 
abandoning  Rome.  But  surely  all  the 


222 


Vittoria  C olonna . 


interest  which  belongs  to  the  question 
of  her  religious  opinions  consists  in  the 
fact  that  she,  like  the  majority  of  the 
best  minds  of  her  country  and  age,  as¬ 
suredly  held  doctrines  which  Rome  dis¬ 
covered  and  declared  to  be  incompatible 
with  her  creed. 

A  more  agreeable  record  of  Vittoria’s 
presence  in  Rome  at  this  time,  and  an 
interesting  glimpse  of  the  manner  in 
which  many  of  her  hours  were  passed, 
is  to  be  found  in  the  papers  left  by  one 
Francesco  d’  Olanda,1  a  Portuguese 
painter,  who  was  then  in  the  eternal 
city.  He  had  been  introduced,  he  tells 
us,  by  the  kindness  of  Messer  Lattan- 
zio  Tolemei  of  Siena  to  the  Marchesa 
de  Pescara,  and  also  to  Michael  An¬ 
gelo  ;  and  he  has  recorded  at  length 
several  conversations  between  these, 
and  two  or  three  other  members  of 
their  society,  in  which  he  took  part. 


1  Note  5. 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


223 


The  object  of  his  notes  appears  to  have 
been  chiefly  to  preserve  the  opinions 
expressed  by  the  great  Florentine 
on  subjects  connected  with  the  arts. 
And  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  con¬ 
versation  of  the  eminent  personages 
mentioned,  as  recorded  by  the  Portu¬ 
guese  painter,  appears,  if  judged  by 
the  standard  of  nineteenth  century  no¬ 
tions,  to  have  been  wonderfully  dull 
and  flat. 

The  record  is  a  very  curious  one  even 
in  this  point  of  view.  It  is  interesting 
to  measure  the  distance  between  what 
was  considered  first-rate  conversation 
in  1540,  and  what  would  be  tolerated 
among  intelligent  people  in  1850.  The 
good-old-times  admirers,  who  would 
have  us  believe  that  the  ponderous 
erudition  of  past  generations  is  dis¬ 
tasteful  to  us,  only  by  reason  of  the 
touch-and-go  butterfly  frivolousness  of 
the  modern  mind,  are  in  error.  The 


224  Vittoria  Colonna. 

long  discourses  which  charmed  a  six¬ 
teenth  century  audience,  are  to  us  in¬ 
tolerably  boring,  because  they  are 
filled  with  platitudes  ; — with  facts,  in¬ 
ferences,  and  speculations,  that  is, 
which  have  passed  and  repassed  through 
the  popular  mind,  till  they  have  as¬ 
sumed  the  appearance  of  self-evident 
truths  and  fundamental  axioms,  which 
it  is  loss  of  time  to  spend  words  on. 
And  time  has  so  wonderfully  risen 
in  value  !  And  though  there  are  more 
than  ever  men  whose  discourse  might 
be  instructive  and  profitable  to  their 
associates,  the  universality  of  the  habit 
of  reading  prevents  conversation  from 
being  turned  into  a  lecture.  Those  who 
have  matter  worth  communicating,  can 
do  so  more  effectually  and  to  a  larger 
audience  by  means  of  the  pen  ;  and 
those  willing  to  be  instructed,  can  make 
themselves  masters  of  the  thoughts  of 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


225 


others  far  more  satisfactorily  by  the 
medium  of  a  book. 

But  the  external  circumstances  of 
these  conversations,  noted  down  for  us 
by  Fi  •ancesco  d’Olanda,  give  us  an 
amusing  peep  into  the  literary  lite  ot 
the  Roman  world'  three  hundred  years 
ago. 

It  was  one  Sunday  afternoon  that  the 
Portuguese  artist  went  to  call  on  Mes¬ 
ser  Lattanzio  Tolemei,  nephew  ot  the 
cardinal  of  that  name.  The  servants 
told  him,  that  their  master  was  in  the 
church  of  San  Silvestro,  at  Monte 
Cavallo,  in  company  with  the  Mar- 
cliesa  di  Pescara,  for  the  purpose  of 
hearing  a  lecture  on  the  Epistles  ot 
St.  Paul,  from  a  certain  Friar  Ambrose 
of  Siene.  Maestro  Francesco  lost  no 
time  in  following  his  friend  thither. 
And  u  as  soon  as  the  reading  and  the 
interpretations  of  it  were  over,”  the 
Marchesa  turning  to  the  stranger,  and 


226 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


inviting  him  to  sit  beside  her,  said  ;  u  If 
I  am  not  mistaken,  Francesco  d’Olanda 
would  better  like  to  hear  Michael 
Angelo  preach  on  painting,  than  to 
listen  to  Friar  Ambrose’s  lecture.” 

Whereupon  the  painter,  “  feeling 
himself  piqued,”  assures  the  lady  that 
he  can  take  interest  in  other  matters 
than  painting,  and  that  however  will¬ 
ingly  he  would  listen  to  Michael  An¬ 
gelo  on  art,  he  would  prefer  to  hear 
Friar  Ambrose  when  St.  Paul’s  epistles 
were  in  question. 

“  Do  not  be  angry,  Messer  Frances¬ 
co,”  said  Signor  Lattanzio,  thereupon. 
“The  Marchesa  is  far  from  doubting 
that  the  man  capable  of  painting  may 
be  capable  of  aught  else.  We,  in  Italy, 
have  too  high  an  estimate  of  art  for 
that.  But,  perhaps,  we  should  gather 
from  the  remark  of  the  Signora  Mar¬ 
chesa  the  intention  of  adding  to  the 


Vittoria  Colonna.  221 

pleasure  you  have  already  had,  that  of 
hearing  Michael  Angelo.” 

“In  that  case,”  said  I,  her  “Excel¬ 
lence  would  do  only  as  is  her  wont ; — 
that  is, to  accord  greater  favors  than  one 
would  have  dared  to  ask  of  her.” 

So  Vittoria  calls  to  a  servant,  and 
bids  him  go  to  the  house  of  Michael 
Angelo,  and  tell  him,  “that  I  and 
Messer  Lattanzio  are  here  in  this  cool 
chapel,  that  the  church  is  shut,  and 
very  pleasant,  and  ask  him  if  he  will 
come  and  spend  a  part  of  the  day  with 
us,  that  we  may  put  it  to  profit  in  his 
company.  But  do  not  tell  him  that 
Francesco  d’Olanda  the  Spaniard  is 
here.” 

Then  there  is  some  very  mild  raillery 
about  how  Michael  Angelo  was  to  be 
led  to  speak  of  painting ; — it  being,  it 
seems,  very  questionable  whether  he 
could  be  induced  to  do  so  ;  and  a  little 
bickering  follows  between  Maestro 


228 


Vittoria  G olonna . 

Francesco  and  Friar  Ambrose,  who 
feels  convinced  that  Michael  will  not 
be  got  to  talk  before  the  Portuguese, 
while  the  latter  boasts  of  his  intimacy 
with  the  great  man. 

Presently  there  is  a  knock  at  the 
church  door.  It  is  Michael  Angelo, 
who  has  been  met  by  the  servant  as  he 
was  going  towards  the  baths,  talking 
with  Orbino,  his  color-grinder. 

u  The  Marchesa  rose  to  receive  him, 
and  remained  standing  a  good  while, 
before  making  him  sit  down  between 
her  and  Messer  Lattanzio.”  Then, 
“  with  an  art,  which  I  can  neither  de¬ 
scribe  nor  imitate,  she  began  to  talk  ol 
various  matters  with  infinite  wit  and 
grace,  without  ever  touching  the  sub¬ 
ject  of  painting,  the  better  to  make 
sure  of  the  great  painter.” 

“  One  is  sure  enough,”  she  says  at 
last,  “  to  be  completely  beaten,  as  often 
as  one  ventures  to  attack  Michael  An- 


Vittori a  C olonn a . 


22  P 


gelo  oil  his  own  ground,  which  is  that 
of  wit  and  raillery.  You  will  see, 
Messer  Lattanzio,  that  to  put  him  down 
and  reduce  him  to  silence,  we  must 
talk  to  him  of  briefs,  law  processes,  or 
painting.” 

By  which  subtle  and  deep-laid  plot 
the  great  man  is  set  off  into  a  long  dis¬ 
course  on  painters  and  painting. 

“  His  Holiness,”  said  the  Marchesa, 
after  a  while,  “  has  granted  me  the 
favor  of  authorizing  me  to  build  a  new 
convent,  near  this  spot,  on  the  slope  of 
Monte  Cavallo,  where  there  is  the  ruin¬ 
ed  portico,  from  the  top  of  which,  it  is 
said,  that  Hero  looked  on  while  Borne 
was  burning;  so  that  virtuous  women 
may  efface  the  trace  of  so  wicked  a 
man.  I  do  not  know,  Michael  Angelo, 
what  form  or  proportions  to  give  the 
building,  or  on  which  side  to  make  the 
entrance.  Would  it  not  be  possible  to 
join  together  some  parts  of  the  ancient 
20 


230 


Vittorio,  Colonna. 


constructions,  and  make  them  available 
towards  the  new  building  ?  ” 

“  Yes,”  said  Michael  Angelo;  “  the 
ruined  portico  might  serve  for  a  bell- 
tower.” 

This  repartee,  says  our  Portuguese 
reporter,  was  uttered  with  so  much 
seriousness  and  aplomb ,  that  Messer 
Lattanzio  could  not  forbear  from  re¬ 
marking  it. 

From  which  we  are  led  to  infer,  that 
the  great  Michael  was  understood  to 
have  made  a  joke.  He  added,  how¬ 
ever,  more  seriously  ;  “  I  think,  that 
your  Excellence  may  build  the  propos¬ 
ed  convent  without  difficulty ;  and 
when  we  go  out,  we  can,  if  your  Ex¬ 
cellence  so  please,  have  a  look  at  the 
spot,  and  suggest  to  you  some  ideas.” 

Then,  after  a  complimentary  speech 
from  Vittoria,  in  which  she  declares 
that  the  public,  who  know  Michael 
Angelo’s  works  only  without  being  ac 


Vittoria  Oolonna. 


231 


quainted  with  his  character,  are  igno¬ 
rant  of  the  best  part  of  him,  the  lecture, 
to  which  all  this  is  introductory,  begins. 
And  when  the  company  part  at  its 
close,  an  appointment  is  made  to  meet 
again  another  Sunday  in  the  same 
church. 

A  painter  in  search  of  an  unhack¬ 
neyed  subject,  might  easily  choose  a 
worse  one  than  that  suggested  by  this 
notable  group,  making  the  cooi  and 
quiet  church  their  Sunday  afternoon 
drawing-room. 

The  few  remaining  years  of  Vittoria’s 
life  were  spent  between  Rome  and 
Viterbo,  an  episcopal  city  some  thirty 
miles  to  the  north  of  it.  In  this  latter 
her  home  was  in  the  convent  of  the 
nuns  of  St.  Catherine.  Her  society 
there  consisted  chiefly  of  Cardinal 
Pole,  the  governor  of  Viterbo,  her  old 
friend  Marco  Antonio  Flaminio,  and 
Archbishop  Soranzo. 


232 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


During  these  years  the  rapidly  in¬ 
creasing  consciousness  on  the  part  of 
the  Church  of  the  danger  of  the  doc¬ 
trines  held  by  the  reforming  party,  was 
speedily  making  it  unsafe  to  profess 
those  opinions,  which,  as  we  have  seen, 
gave  the  color  to  so  large  a  portion  of 
Vittoria's  poetry,  and  which  had  form¬ 
ed  her  spiritual  character.  And  these 
friends,  in  the  closest  intimacy  with 
whom  she  lived  at  Viterbo,  were  not 
the  sort  of  men  calculated  to  support 
her  in  any  daring  reliance  on  the  dic¬ 
tates  of  her  own  soul,  when  these 
chanced  to  be  in  opposition  to  the 
views  of  the  Church.  Pole  appears  to 
have  been  at  this  time  the  special 
director  of  her  conscience.  And  we 
know  but  too  well,  from  the  lamentable 
sequel  of  his  own  career,  the  sort  of 
counsel  he  would  be  likely  to  give  her 
under  the  circumstances.  There  is 
an  extremely  interesting  letter  extant, 


Vittor  ia  C olonna. 


233 


written  by  her  from  Viterbo  to  the 
Cardinal  Cervino,  who  was  afterwards 
Pope  Marcellus  II,  which  proves  clear¬ 
ly  enough,  to  the  great  delight  of  her 
orthodox  admirers,  that  let  her  opin¬ 
ions  have  been  what  they  might,  she 
was  ready  to  “submit”  them  to  the 
censorship  ot  Pome.  We  have  seen 
how  closely  her  opinions  agreed  with 
those  which  drove  Bernardino  Ocliino 
to  separate  himself  from  the  Church, 
and  fly  from  its  vengeance.  Yet  under 
Pole’s  tutelage  she  writes  as  follows  : — 

“  Most  Illustrious  and  most  Beverend 
Sir, 

“  The  more  opportunity  I  have  had 
of  observing  the  actions  of  his  Emi¬ 
nence  the  Cardinal  of  England  (Pole), 
the  more  clear  has  it  seemed  to  me 
that  he  is  a  true  and  sincere  servant  of 
Cod.  Whenever,  therefore,  he  charita¬ 
bly  condescends  to  give  me  his  opinion 
on  any  point,  I  conceive  myself  safe 


234 


'Vittoria  Colonna. 


from  error  in  following  his  advice. 
And  he  told  me  that,  in  his  opinion, 
I  ought,  in  case  any  letter  or  other  mat 
ter  should  reach  me  from  Fra  Bernar¬ 
dino,  to  send  the  same  to  your  most 
Reverend  Lordship,  and  return  no  an¬ 
swer,  unless  I  should  be  directed  to 
do  so.  I  send  you  therefore  the  en¬ 
closed,  which  I  have  this  dav  received, 
together  with  the  little  book  attached. 
The  whole  was  in  a  packet,  which  came 
to  the  post  here  by  a  courier  from 
Bologna,  without  any  other  writing 
inside.  And  I  have  thought  it  best  not 
to  make  use  of  any  other  means  of  send¬ 
ing  it,  than  by  a  servant  of  my  own.”  *  * 
She  adds  in  a  postscript :  — 

“  It  grieves  me  much  that  the  more 
he  tries  to  excuse  himself  the  more  he 
accuses  himself ;  and  the  more  he 
thinks  to  save  others  from  shipwreck, 
the  more  he  exposes  himself  to  the 


~Vittoria  C olonna. 


235 


flood,  being  himself  out  of  the  ark  which 
saves  and  secures.”  1 

Poor  Ochino  little  thought  probably 
that  his  letter  to  his  former  admiring 
and  fervent  disciple,  would  be  passed 
on  with  such  a  remark  to  the  hands  of 
his  enemies  !  He  ought,  however,  to 
have  been  aware  that  princesses  and 
cardinals,  whatever  speculations  they 
may  have  indulged  in,  do  not  easily 
become  heretics. 

She  returned  once  more  from  Viter¬ 
bo  to  Pome  towards  the  end  of  the  year 
1544,  and  took  up  her  residence  in  the 
convent  of  Benedictines  of  St  Anne. 
While  there  she  composed  the  Latin 
prayer,  printed  in  the  note,2  which  has 
been  much  admired,  and  which,  though 
not  so  Ciceronian  in  its  diction  as  Bembo 
might  have  written,  will  bear  compari¬ 
son  with  similar  compositions  by  many 


1  Visconti,  p.  cxxxi.  Printed  also  by  Tiraboschi,  vol.  7. 
3  Note  6. 


236 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


more  celebrated  persons.  Several  of  the 
latest  of  her  poems  were  also  written 
at  this  time.  But  her  health  began  to 
fail  so  rapidly  as  to  give  great  uneasi¬ 
ness  to  her  friends.  Several  letters  are 
extant  from  Tolomei  to  her  physician, 
anxiously  inquiring  after  her  health, 
urging  him  to  neglect  no  resources  of 
his  art,  and  bidding  him  remember  that 
u  the  lives  of  many,  who  continually 
receive  from  her  their  food — some  that 
of  the  body,  and  others  that  of  the  mind 
—are  bound  up  in  hers.”1  The  celebrat¬ 
ed  physician  and  poet  Fracastoro,  was 
written  to  in  Verona.  In  his  reply, 
after  suggesting  medical  remedies,  he 
says,  “  Would  that  a  physician  for  her 
mind  could  be  found  1  Otherwise  the 
fairest  light  in  this  world  will,  from 
causes  by  no  means  clear  (a  non  so  che 
strano  modo)  be  extinguished  and  taken 
from  our  eyes.”  2 

1  Lettere  del  Tolomei.  Venezia,  1578.  2  Visconti,  p.  cxxxiv 


Vittoria  Colonna. 


231 


The  medical  opinion  of  .Fracastoro, 
writing  from  a  distance,  may  not  be  of 
much  value.  But  it  is  certain  that 
many  circumstances  combined  to  render 
these  declining  years  of  Yittoria’s  life 
unhappy.  The  fortunes  of  her  family 
were  under  a  cloud  ;  and  it  is  probable 
that  she  was  as  much  grieved  by  her 
brother’s  conduct,  as  by  the  conse¬ 
quences  of  it.  The  death  also  of  the 
Marchese  del  Yasto,  in  the  flower  of 
his  age,  about  this  time,  was  a  severe 
blqw  to  her.  Ever  since  those  happy 
early  days  in  Ischia,  when  she  had  been 
to  him,  as  she  said,  morally  and  intel¬ 
lectually  a  mother,  the  closest  ties  of 
affection  had  united  them  ;  and  his  loss 
was  to  Yittoria  like  that  of  a  son.  Then 
again,  though  she  had  perfectly  made 
up  her  mind  as  to  the  line  of  conduct 
it  behooved  her  to  take  in  regard  to  any 
difficulties  of  religious  opinion,  yet  it 
cannot  be  doubted  that  the  necessity 


238 


Vittoria  C olonna. 


of  separating  herself  from  so  many 
whom  she  had  loved  and  venerated, 
deserting  them,  as  it  were,  in  their 
falling  fortunes,  must  have  been  acutely 
painful  to  her.  Possibly  also  conscience 
was  not  wholly  at  rest  with  her  on 
this  matter.  It  may  be  that  the  still 
voice  of  inward  conviction  would  some¬ 
times  make  obstinate  murmur  against 
blindfold  submission  to  a  priesthood, 
who  ought  not,  according  to  the  once 
expressed  opinion  of  the  poetess,  to 
come  between  the  creature  and  his 
Creator. 

As  she  became  gradually  worse  and 
weaker,  she  was  removed  from  the  con 
vent  of  St.  Anne,  to  the  neighboring 
house  of  Giuliano  Cesarini,  the  husband 
of  Guilia  Colonna,  the  only  one  of  her 
kindred  then  left  in  Pome.  And  there 
she  breathed  her  last  towards  the  end 
of  February,  1547,  in  the  57th  year  of 
her  age. 


Vittoria  Golonna. 


239 


In  her  last  hours  she  was  visited  by 
her  faithful  and  devotedly  attached 
friend  Michael  Angelo,  who  watched 
the  departure  of  the  spirit  from  her 
frame  ;  and  who  declared,1  years  after¬ 
wards,  that  he  had  never  ceased  to  re¬ 
gret,  that  in  that  solemn  moment  he 
had  not  ventured  to  press  his  lips  for 
the  first  and  last  time,  to  the  marble 
forehead  of  the  dead. 

She  had  directed  that  her  funeral 
should  be  in  all  respects  like  that  of 
one  of  the  sisters  of  the  convent  in 
which  she  last  resided.  And  so  com¬ 
pletely  were  her  behests  attended  to, 
that  no  memorial  of  any  kind  remains 
to  tell  the  place  of  her  sepulchre. 


1  Condivi.  Vita. 


TO  THE 


LIFE  OF  YITTORIA  COLONNA. 


1. — Page  49. 

Guiliano  Passeri,  the  author  of  the  diary  quoted  in  tb* 
text,  was  an  honest  weaver,  living  by  his  art  at  Naples 
in  the  time  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain  and  Charles  Y.  His 
work  appears  to  have  been  composed  wholly  for  his 
own  satisfaction  and  amusement.  The  entire  work  iff 
written  in  the  form  of  a  diary.  But  as  the  first  entry 
records  the  coming  of  Alphonso  I  to  Naples,  on  “thL*? 
day  the  26th  February,  1443,”  and  the  last  describe.1? 
the  funeral  of  the  Marchese  di  Pescara,  Yittoria’s  hus 
band,  on  the  12th  May,  1526,  it  is  difficult  to  suppos' 
that  these  could  have  been  the  daily  jottings  of  one 
and  the  same  individual,  extending  over  a  period  of 
83  years,  although  it  is  possible  that  they  may  have 
been  so.  As  the  work  ends  quite  abruptly,  it  seems 


Notes. 


241 


reasonable  to  suppose  that  it  was  carried  on  till  the 
death  of  the  writer.  The  probability  is,  that  the 
memorials  of  the  earlier  years  are  due  to  another  pen 
The  work  is  written  in  Neapolitan  dialect,  and  con 
cerns  itself  very  little  with  aught  that  passed  out  of 
Naples.  It  has  all  the  marks  of  being  written  by  an 
eye-witness  of  "the  circumstances  recorded.  The  ac¬ 
counts  especially  of  all  public  ceremonies,  gala-doings, 
etc.,  are  given  in  great  detail,  and  with  all  the  gusto 
of  a  regular  sight-seer.  And  the  book  is  interesting  as 
a  rare  specimen  of  the  writing  and  ideas  of  an  artisan 
of  the  16th  century. 

It  was  printed  in  a  4to  volume  at  Naples  in  1785, 
and  is  rather  rare. 


2. — Page  99. 

These  false  ducats  gave  rise,  we  are  told,  to  the 
king’s  saying,  that  his  wife  had  brought  him  three 
gifts : — 

Faciem  pictain, 

Monetam  fictam, 

to  which  the  ungallant  and  brutal  royal  husband  add¬ 
ed  another,  the  statement  of  which  ending  in  “stric- 
tam,”  is  so  grossly  coarse,  that  it  cannot  be  repeated 
here,  even  with  the  partial  veil  of  its  Latin  clothing. 

3. — Page  125. 

The  translations  of  the  sonnets  in  the  text  have  been 
given  solely  with  the  view  of  enabling  those,  who  do 


242 


Notes . 


not  read  Italian,  to  form  some  idea  of  the  subject-mat¬ 
ter  and  mode  of  thought  of  the  author,  and  not  with 
any  hope  or  pretension  of  presenting  any  thing  that 
might  be  accepted  as  a  tolerable  English  sonnet.  In 
many  instances  the  required  continuation  of  the 
rhyme  has  not  even  been  attempted.  If  it  be  asked, 
why  then  were  the  translations  not  given  in  simple 
prose,  which  would  have  admitted  a  yet  greater  ac¬ 
curacy  of  literal  rendering  ?— it  is  answered,  that  a 
translation  so  made  would  be  so  intolerably  bald,  flat, 
and  silly-sounding,  that  a  still  more  unfavorable  con¬ 
ception  of  the  original  would  remain  in  the  English 
reader’s  mind  that  that,  which  it  is  hoped  may  be  pro¬ 
duced  by  the  more  or  less  poetically-cast  translations 
given.  The  originals,  printed  in  every  instance,  will 
do  justice  (if  not  more)  to  our  poetess  in  the  eyes  of 
those  acquainted  with  her  language,  for  the  specimens 
chosen  may  be  relied  on  as  being  not  unfavorable 
specimens.  And  many  readers,  probably,  who  might 
not  take  the  trouble  to  understand  the  original  in  a 
language  they  imperfectly  understand,  may  yet,  by 
the  help  of  the  translation,  if  they  think  it  worth 
while,  obtain  a  tolerable  accurate  notion  of  Vittoria’s 
poetical  style. 


4. — Page  214. 

When  Mr.  Harford  heard  these  letters  read,  the  ex¬ 
ceedingly  valuable  and  interesting  museum  of  papers, 
pictures,  drawings,  etc.  a’ Michael  Angelo,  was  the 


Notes.  243 


property  of  his  lineal  descendant,  the  late  minister  of 
public  instruction  in  Tuscany.  When  dying,  he  be¬ 
queathed  this  exceedingly  important  collection  to  the 

Community,  or  corporation  of  Florence.  The  Tuscan 
law  requires  that  the  notary  who  draws  a  will,  should 
do  so  in  the  presence  of  the  testator.  Unfortunately, 
on  the  sick  man  complaining  of  the  heat  of  the  room, 
the  notary  employed  to  draw  this  important  instru¬ 
ment,  retired,  it  seems,  into  the  next  room,  which,  as 
a  door  was  open  between  the  two  chambers,  he  con¬ 
ceived  was  equivalent  to  being  in  presence  of  the 
testator,  as  required  by  law.  It  has  been  decided, 
however,  by  the  tribunals  of  Florence,  that  the  will 
was  thus  vitiated,  and  that  the  property  must  pass 
to  the  heirs  at  law.  An  appeal  still  pending  (Sep¬ 
tember,  1858)  lies  to  a  higher  court ;  but  there  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  the  original  judgment 
must  be  confirmed.  In  the  mean  time,  the  papers, 
etc.,  are  under  the  inviolable  seal  of  the  law. 

5. — Page  222. 

The  MS.  of  Francois  de  Holland,  containing  the 
notices  of  Vittoria  Colonna,  given  in  the  text,  is  to 
be  found  translated  into  French,  and  printed  in  a 
volume  entitled,  “Les  Arts  en  Portugal,  par  le  Comte 
A.  Raczynski.  Paris,  1846.” 

My  attention  was  directed  to  the  notices  of  Vittoria 
to  be  found  in  this  volume,  by  a  review  of  M.  Deu- 
mier’s  book  on  our  poetess,  by  Signor  A.  Reumont, 
inserted  in  the  fifth  volume  of  the  new  series  of  the 
“  Archivio  Storico  Italiano,  Firenze,  1857,”  p.  138. 


244 


Notes . 


6. — Page  235. 

The  prayer  written  by  Vittoria  Colonna  is  as  fol¬ 
lows  : — 

“Da,  precor,  Domine,  ut  ea  animi  depressione,  qine 
humilitati  mese  convenit,  eaque  mentis  elatione,  quam 
tua  postulat  celsitudo,  te  semper  adorem ;  ac  in  timore, 
quem  tua  incutit  justitia,  et  in  spe,  quam  tua  demen¬ 
tia  permittit,  vivam  continue,  meque  tibi  uti  potentis- 
simo  subjiciam,  tanquam  sapientissimo  disponam,  et 
ad  te  ut  perfectissimum  et  optimum  convertar.  Obse- 
cro,  Pater  Pientissime,  ut  me  ignis  tuus  vivacissimus 
depuret,  lux  tua  clarissima  illustret,  et  amor  tuus  ille 
sincerissimus  ita  proficiat  ut  ad  te  nullo  mortalium 
rerum  obice  detenta,  felix  redeam  et  secura.’ 


INDEX. 


- * - 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAG 

Cnanges  in  the  Condition  of  Italy. — Dark  Days.— Cir¬ 
cumstances  which  led  to  the  Invasion  of  the  French. 

— State  of  things  in  Naples. — Fall  of  the  Arragonese 
Dynasty. — Birth  of  Yittoria. — The  Colonna. — Marino. 

— Vittoria’s  Betrothal. — The  Duchess  di  Franca- 
villa.— Literary  Culture  at  Naples. — Education  of 
Yittoria  in  Ischia, . 7 


CHAPTER  II. 

fittoria’s  Personal  Appearance.— First  love. — A  Noblo 
Soldier  of  Fortune. — Italian  Wars  of  the  Fifteenth 
and  Sixteenth  Centuries. — The  Colonna  Fortunes. — 
Death  of  Ferdinand  II. — The  Neapolitans  carry  Coals 
to  Newcastle. — Events  in  Ischia. — Ferdinand  of 
Spain  in  Naples.— Life  in  Naples  in  the  Sixteenth 
Century. — Marriage  of  Pescara  with  Yittoria. — Mar¬ 
riage  Presents . 87 


246 


Index. 


\ 

CHAPTER  III. 

PAGB 

Vittoria’s  Married  Life. — Pescara  goes  where  Glory 
awaits  Him. — The  Bout  of  Kavenna. — Pescara  in 
Prison  turns  Penman. — His  “Dialogo  di  amore.” — 
Vittoria’s  Poetical  Epistle  to  her  Husband. — Vittoria 
and  the  Marchese  del  Vasto.— Three  Cart-loads  of 
Ladies,  and  three  Mule-loads  of  Sweetmeats. — Charac¬ 
ter  of  Pescara.— His  Cruelty. — Anecdote  in  Proof 
of  it, . 6^ 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Society  in  Ischia.— Bernardo  Tasso’s  sonnet  thereon.— 
How  a  wedding  was  celebrated  in  Naples  in  1517. — 
A  Sixteenth  Century  trousseau. — Sack  of  Genoa. 
—The  Battle  of  Pavia.— Italian  conspiracy  against 
Charles  V. — Character  of  Pescara. — Honor  in  1525. — 
Pescara’s  treason.— Vittoria’s  sentiments  on  the  occa¬ 
sion. — Pescara’s  infamy.— Patriotism  unknown  in 
Italy  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.— No  such  sentiment 
to  be  found  in  the  writings  of  Vittoria. — Evil  influ¬ 
ence  of  her  husband’s  character  on  her  mind. — Death 

of  P  6SC3Xcl9  ••  ••••*•* 


CHAPTER  V. 

Vittoria,  a  Widow,  with  the  Nuns  of  San  Silvestro. 
— Keturns  to  Ischia.— Her  Poetry  divisible  into  two 
classes. — Specimens  of  her  Sonnets. — They  rapidly 
attain  celebrity  throughout  Italy. — Vittoria’s  senti¬ 
ments  towards  her  Husband. — Her  unblemished 
Character.— Platonic  Love.— The  Love  Poetry  of  the 
Sixteenth  Century, . 


Index 


247 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGB 

Vittoria  in  Rome  in  1530. — Antiquarian  rambles. — Tyra- 
mus  and  Thisbe  medal.— Contemporary  commen¬ 
tary  on  Yittoria’s  poems. — Paul  the  Third. — Rome 
again  in  1536. — Visit  to  Lucca. — To  Ferrara. — Prot¬ 
estant  tendencies. — Invitation  from  Giberto. — Re¬ 
turn  to  Rome, . 149 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Oratory  of  Divine  Love. — Italian  Reformers. — Their 
tenets. — Consequence  of  the  doctrine  of  Justification 
by  Faith. — Fear  of  Schism  in  Italy. — Orthodoxy  of 
Vittoria  questioned. — Proofs  of  her  Protestantism 
from  her  writings. — Calvinism  of  her  Sonnets. — Re¬ 
markable  passage  against  Auricular  Confession. — 
Controversial  and  religious  Sonnets. — Absence  from 
the  Sonnets  of  moral  topics. — Specimen  of  her  poeti¬ 
cal  power. — Romanist  ideas. — Absence  from  the  Son¬ 
nets  of  all  patriotic  feeling, . 170 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Return  to  Rome. — Her  great  reputation. — Friendship 
with  Michael  Angelo. —  Medal  of  this  period. — Re¬ 
moval  to  Orvieto. — Visit  from  Luca  Contile. — Her 
determination  not  to  quit  the  Church. — Francesco 
d’Olanda. — His  record  of  conversations  with  Vittoria. 
—Vittoria  at  Viterbo. — Influence  of  Cardinal  Pole  on 
ler  mind. — Last  return  to  Rome. — Her  death,  .  .  20S 


. 


'  * 


‘ 


r 


*PW  ‘aJOTUll^q  JQ 

S3AVO  HVHVMO  QMVAVQ3 

JO  |euouiaj^  b  s«  patusssaj 

»»UI[Oje3  t[MO^  JO  ^ISJ9AlUj^ 

3HX  JO 

iwagn 


